


a gentleman’s guide to romancing a werewolf

by adamantine



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: (but eventually he's a cock slut), (but not THAT angsty for them at least), An Extremely Virginal Felix, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Dimilix Week (Fire Emblem), First Times, M/M, Top Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Vaguely a Regency AU, Werewolf Sex that is basically furry porn, Werewolves, additional warnings/clarifications in the notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:41:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 53,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29456910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adamantine/pseuds/adamantine
Summary: At eighteen, Felix graduates from boarding school with a broken heart. He spends the next five years not dealing with it until Glenn bungles his engagement to Ingrid and their father sends Felix to Fhirdiad in the hopes that one of his sons may find a wife.Unbeknownst to them all, Felix isn’t the only one who has returned to the city after a long absence.
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Dedue Molinaro, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 101
Kudos: 82
Collections: 2021 Dimilix Week





	1. lone moon

**Author's Note:**

> 💃🏻 WELCOME TO THE FIC THAT HAS CONSUMED THREE MONTHS OF MY LIFE 🐺  
> in the earliest iterations of this, I thought it was going to be ~25k. it is.......about twice that.
> 
>  **IMPORTANT WARNINGS/CLARIFICATIONS**  
>  \- I can’t emphasize the “furry werewolf sex” tag enough. The werewolves in this are pretty humanoid (not just Big Wolves) but that is either worse or better depending on your perspective for porn!!  
> \- The homophobia levels of this fic are “it’s okay if it’s not my kid / as long as you don’t flaunt it”  
> \- There will also be (spoilers) a minor Ferdibert cameo

Lord Felix Fraldarius was not a man for frivolity. If he had any say in the matter, he would be at home at his family’s country estate spending the evening practicing his sword forms, not in Fhirdiad, standing in a corner of the ballroom at Lord Lonato’s townhouse, resisting the urge to down his drink in one gulp, as a string quartet played a lively tune. For five years he had managed to avoid the city of Fhirdiad and its vulgarity, but with the dissolution of his brother Lord Glenn Fraldarius’s engagement to Lady Ingrid Galatea, their esteemed father, the Duke Fraldarius, had transferred his hopes for a grandchild to be born before his death from his eldest son to his youngest, and to facilitate that desire he had banished Felix to spend spring, the social season in Fódlan, in Fhirdiad, forcing Felix to trade their estate by the sea for a townhouse he had not stepped foot in since a brief stay after his boarding school graduation. Naturally, Felix had not accepted the placement without a fight, but he had lost the battle thoroughly when the Duke had threatened to cut him off if he did not comply; Felix, who lived off the generosity of his old man’s wallet, had no means of supporting his defiance and as such had been forced to join the throngs of high society flocking to the city at winter’s end.

The old man was a fool if he thought sending Felix to Fhirdiad would bring about the outcome he wanted. Felix had no intentions of marrying any lady, no matter how beautiful or accomplished she might be. Their old man was better off rehabilitating Glenn’s reputation as at least there existed a chance (albeit a slim one) that Glenn may bed a woman before the old man’s death, but Felix supposed their old man was hoping Glenn would take the initiative and repair it himself; unfortunately, it seemed Glenn enjoyed being a social pariah and was doing nothing to bring about his return to high society. Though he had come to Fhirdiad with Felix, he spent all his time tinkering and studying in their townhouse, uninterested in making amends for the scandal he had caused. It was likely the other reason Duke Fraldarius had turned to Felix in hope: at least in Fhirdiad he knew Felix would find it difficult to avoid the invitations of his friends. As much as Felix was similar to his brother on the surface, Glenn’s misanthropic tendencies were not artifice, but the expression of his natural proclivities. The same could not be said for Felix, who only pretended to hate the company of others.

Which was why Felix found himself in Lord Lonato’s home at the bequest of Mr Ashe Ubert, his old classmate from boarding school and Lord Lonato’s adopted son. Ashe had put up with a lot from Felix during their school days and had always been nothing but kind to him; Felix found it difficult to say no to him as a result. It had become outright impossible once Sylvain had requested his attendance as well.

Like Glenn, Lord Sylvain Gautier had an unfortunate reputation in regard to women. In his case, it was not a broken engagement that had damned him but his refusal to commit to one in the first place. He was charming and flirtatious but his courtships did not lead to proposals: the moment any women suggested such a thing he would dispose of her like an ill-fitting shirt. It was callous and cruel, but Felix had long given up trying to dissuade Sylvain from such actions as his advice was routinely ignored; if Sylvain wanted every woman in Fódlan to curse him, so be it.

The only woman Sylvain had yet to chase away was Ingrid. Until recently, all three of their fathers had been good friends, bringing them into frequent contact with each other, but after Glenn’s unrepentant betrayal, Count Galatea had denounced the entirety of House Fraldarius. As such, Felix had not seen her since last autumn on the day of what would have been her wedding, but it was not just Count Galatea’s anger that had kept him from speaking to her, but the awkwardness of being the brother of the man who had scorned her. How would it look if he continued his friendship with her? People would surely make unsavory assumptions, especially as Glenn had not provided a reason for his repudiation of their engagement.

Sylvain, forever the arbitrator between his childhood friends, took it upon himself to clear the air between them when Felix came to Fhirdiad, acting as a gofer as it was difficult for them to contact each other directly, lest Ingrid’s father intercept their messages. So while Felix had made amends with Ingrid after not speaking to her for nearly half a year (though she understood his reasoning she had scolded him thoroughly for it; Sylvain had taken great pains in recreating her speech for _that_ particular message, even going so far as to mimic her Eastern Faerghus accent) Lord Lonato’s party was his first time meeting her in person since the ruined wedding.

They had agreed to pretend their reunion was unplanned. Felix and Sylvain received their invitations from Ashe, while Mr Christophe Gaspard, Lord Lonato’s heir, was acquainted with Ingrid’s second eldest brother and had implicitly invited Ingrid through him; as such, it was not strange for Felix and Ingrid to find themselves attending the same party despite the bitterness between their families, it was inevitable their paths would cross in the small world of Faerghus high society.

Ingrid’s siblings were not pleased to see Felix but a mixture of Sylvain’s charm and Ingrid’s stubbornness resigned them to the fact that they could not stop Ingrid from speaking to him. It did not, however, stop them from glaring daggers into Felix’s back as he had walked off with her and Sylvain. It was only Felix’s status as a duke’s son that offered him any protection against true retaliation.

“Do you not plan on dancing?” Ingrid asked as the music swelled.

Felix took a sip of his drink. The two of them had long since been abandoned by Sylvain, who was making a valiant effort to dance with every woman at the ball.

“I have no interest in dancing. What’s your excuse?”

“As I enjoy your company so much, I’ve decided to brood with you in this dark corner, as to not leave it.”

Felix scoffed. An outsider would be forgiven for believing Glenn’s actions had strained their relationship, but that was not the case; this was how they had always talked to each other. He was not any kinder to Sylvain or Glenn.

“Don’t worry about me. You’re free to do as you wish.”

“In that case, I guess I’ll go accept all zero of the dance requests I received earlier.”

Felix winced. “Surely Sylvain would spare you a dance.”

“Wonderful. A pity dance from Sylvain. I’m shaking from excitement.”

Three years ago, Ingrid likely would have been fending off suitors, but despite having done nothing wrong, her broken engagement clung to her like a bad smell; no cared that it was not her fault.

“I don’t see the point of dancing anyway. What purpose is there twirling around like a buffoon? At least if one had a sword—“

“What’s this about swords?” Sylvain asked, approaching them with two drinks in hand. He had either reached his goal of dancing with every woman present, or one too many concerned brothers had stepped in to ruin it.

“Felix was just saying he wouldn’t mind dancing if there were swords involved.”

Sylvain’s ensuing guffaw made several guests turn their heads to see what the fuss was about.

“That’s not what I said.”

“No, but it was the spirit of it.” Ingrid plucked one of Sylvain’s drinks out of his hands.

“If I see a lady with a sword,” Sylvain said with amusement, “I’ll be sure to send her your way.”

“Enough. I won’t be dancing with anyone, ever. Sword or not.”

Sylvain shook his head in bafflement. “It’s a ball, Felix. Dancing is the point.”

“It’s not as if I wanted to be here, but with everything that’s happened we can hardly meet as before.”

“Still, you could at least attempt to have some fun. Ingrid, you’ll dance with me, right?”

“What, already ran out of women willing to dance with you?”

“Something like that. Ow! It was a joke. I’m actually here to rescue you from Felix before you start sporting matching scowls.”

“I don’t need any ‘rescuing.’”

“Oh no, I was too late. You’re already matching.”

“Just go.” Felix waved his hand dismissively. “I wanted to get some fresh air anyway.”

Ingrid looked as if she wanted to argue, but Felix had already begun to walk off, leaving her there with Sylvain.

Lord Lonato had a magnificent garden, quite unusual in the heart of the city where land was a premium; there was only one garden in Fhirdiad that surpassed it in size but it did not have anything close to the amount of plant variety as Lord Lonato’s, though it did have more trees. Lord Lonato’s garden mainly featured flowers. According to Ashe, Lord Lonato tended to them personally when he was in the city, as he was a collector of rare and exotic breeds and did not trust many to take care of them correctly, but he did trust Ashe and taught him much about them; in turn Ashe had always credited Lord Lonato’s tutelage as the reason for his excellent marks in botany. Felix, on the other hand, had middling marks at best in the subject and would be hard-pressed to name more than a few of Lord Lonato’s plants.

At the center of the garden stood an enormous fountain. Felix crouched in front of it to examine a row of blue flowers. He did not recognize them, but their color stirred something within him.

“Unusual to see wolf’s bane blooming this time of the year,” a man said. “Lonato has quite the green thumb.”

“You seem quite knowledgeable on the subject. Are you an avid gardener as well?” It was unlike Felix to make small talk with a stranger, but being outside in Lord Lonato’s garden made him generous.

“Not at all, I just happen to live with one.” The man had a perfectly posh Faerghus accent that was rare to hear outside of Fhirdiad.

“Is that so?” Felix turned and stood to face the man who had appeared behind from the other side of the fountain.

The man’s jacket was the same shade of blue as the wolf’s bane. Felix’s heart stopped.

“Felix?”

It was Felix’s heart that knew Dimitri, for his eyes did not recognize him one bit, so altered was he since the day they had last seen each other.

He was taller, his lankiness gone and replaced with a healthy showing of muscle; his golden hair fell around his face in uneven strands, and his right eye was covered in a black eyepatch.

“What are you doing here?” Felix hissed, venom in his voice where sweetness had once been.

“Ashe invited—“

“No, what are you doing here _in this city?_ ”

Sylvain would have told him if Dimitri was in Fhirdiad. He would not leave Felix in the dark and allow for him to be ambushed by their former childhood friend in Lord Lonato’s garden.

“I moved back a few moons ago, but I’ve been busy getting everything sorted out. When I received Ashe’s invitation, I thought it might be a good chance to… ease into things.”

“Instead you ran into me. How unfortunate.”

“I would never suggest such a thing. I—“

Felix cut him off, his temper flaring. “Don’t worry, I’m leaving. You can go back to skulking around the garden in peace.”

“Felix, please. I should be the one to—“

“To what, _leave?_ You’re certainly good at that. But I’m not interested in talking about the past. Goodbye, Dimitri. Don’t get any ideas about contacting me; I never want to see you again.”

He left the garden in an angry rush, his heart pounding in his chest like it did after a particularly fierce fencing bout. Ingrid and Sylvain were still dancing inside; it was not the same song as when Felix had left them. Tongues would be wagging because of the audacity of their actions, burying all gossip of Ingrid and Felix reuniting. He would thank them for it if he thought it was intentional.

He waited for a break in the music to approach them.

“I’m leaving.”

“What’s going on?” Sylvain asked in concern.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” said Ingrid.

For every moment Felix delayed, he felt as if his heart was pounding faster. He could not handle seeing Dimitri again, not now, not ever.

Neither Sylvain nor Ingrid knew the full story of what had happened between them. How could he have told them? They would have never been able to look at him the same way again. Of course, it was not just Felix who Dimitri had cut out from his life, but all three of his childhood friends. For five years, he had not spoken to any of them; Felix would have assumed he was dead if not for the occasional letter he sent to Glenn confirming his continued existence. He was abroad somewhere, is what Felix had gathered through gossip and overheard conversations, not for study but for leisure. Like Felix, he had opted not to continue his education after boarding school.

“Dimitri is here.”

“What?” Sylvain dropped Ingrid’s arm in shock.

“Are you certain?” asked Ingrid.

“He looks completely different, but yes. He spoke to me, likely not realizing who I was in the dark.”

“I’m leaving with you,” Sylvain said.

“Don’t ruin your evening on my account,” Felix said as casually as he could muster. ”Ingrid, it was nice seeing you in person instead of speaking to you through Sylvain.”

“Likewise.”

Felix rushed out of Lord Lonato’s without even saying goodbye to Ashe. He did not relax until his carriage pulled into Fraldarius residence’s drive.

Glenn was sitting in the dining room when Felix returned to the townhouse. He was not eating. There was a pile of books and charts Felix vaguely recognized as having to do with astronomy; likely Glenn planned on stargazing later that night.

“Did you know Dimitri was in Fhirdiad?” Felix asked in a rush.

“That explains why his last letter arrived so quickly,” Glenn said, not bothering to look up from the book he was paging through.

“How do you even write to him if you don’t know where he is?”

“Someone, presumably Lord Lambert or Lady Anselma, forwards his mail. Why? Did you want to write to him?”

Felix clenched his fists, holding himself back from launching across the table to strangle Glenn. “He was at Ashe’s party.”

“You did all go to school together.”

“Why is he back? Why now? Does he not tell you anything in those letters of his?”

“He doesn’t really talk about himself.”

“I need to return to Fraldarius, I don’t care what the old man says.”

Glenn closed his book. He was the only one who knew the truth of what had happened between Felix and Dimitri; in a moment of weakness, Felix had confessed his secret.

“Do you still—“

“I don’t want to talk about it!” Felix wanted to scream, but he knew his brother was not at fault for the way he felt.

“It’s a small world, Felix. You can’t avoid him forever.”

“That’s rich coming from you. Ingrid was at the party, just so you know. No one would dance with her except for Sylvain.”

The sharp barbs of his words were useless on Glenn. “This isn’t about Ingrid and I, but you and Dimitri.” His shoulders sagged. “In a few moons the season will be over and we’ll be back in Fraldarius. You won’t have to worry about seeing Dimitri again, if that’s what you want.”

“Of course it is!” Felix snapped.

He fled, unable to stand the knowing eyes of his brother.

_____

Sylvain gave him a day to mope before showing up on his doorstep, banging on the door and rousing Glenn from his sleep. It was nearly noon but he had spent the night staring out of his telescope on the roof; he threw a shoe at Sylvain from his window.

“Shut the hell up!” Glenn’s northern accent, though light, complemented his harsh words. “Felix, get your obnoxious little friend off my porch!”

“He’s not my friend!” Felix shouted at him from downstairs.

“I can hear you both, you know,” Sylvain announced cheerfully. “The walls are thin.”

“Mr Gough! Mr Gough!” Glenn shouted at their footman from his window. “Aren’t you supposed to do something about trespassers?”

“Lord Sylvain is hardly a trespasser, sir.”

“Did you not hear my dear brother’s declaration? They’re no longer friends, and I certainly don’t claim him either!”

“It’s nice seeing you too, Glenn!” Sylvain said just as Felix stepped onto the porch. “You should join us!”

“Oh, piss off.” Glenn’s made an obscene gesture and slammed his window shut.

“Well, he’s in a terrific mood.”

“Where exactly are you attempting to take me?” Felix asked suspiciously.

“Oh, nowhere exciting, don’t look at me like that. I just thought we could stop by the club, you know, get you out of the house before you end up unsocialized like Glenn.”

Felix snorted. “Fine. Give me a moment to get ready.” He went back inside and shut the door in Sylvain’s face.

“This is how you treat a guest?” Sylvain cried. “You’re just going to leave me here to wait on the porch?”

“SHUT UP!” Glenn roared.

_____

The Blue Lions Club was the premier gentlemen’s club in Faerghus, a home away from home for the most elite men in the country. Felix did not think much of it beyond its amenities: the fencing facilities were of particular interest to him, as they gave him a chance to practice fighting against someone that wasn’t Glenn; he also appreciated the dining hall for its selection of meats.

Sylvain came to the club to gamble. It was not much of a vice as he was good at it, uncannily so, but he was clever enough to know when to lose, making him a popular figure at the club. Whether he enjoyed playing that way, Felix did not know. Sylvain’s main goal when he played was settling grudges, mainly the grudges angry fathers and brothers had against him. His preferred method was cards; he would do exactly what most pleased them, which usually meant losing in such a way that they could not tell he had done so on purpose. The other part of his method was that he was good at charming people, as long as they allowed themselves to spend time with him; he would drag out a card game until he had reached that threshold. By the end of his manipulations, his opponents were nearly thanking him for breaking their loved ones’ hearts.

Upon entering the club’s lounge, Sylvain found his target for the day and winked at Felix. “I’ll meet you around half past one for lunch? That should give you enough time to slice up some poor suckers looking to get in their daily exercise.”

“You’re not as funny as you think you are.”

“I was being entirely serious. Hey—! Felix! You’re not even going to wish me luck?”

“I hope you lose,” Felix replied as if that was not Sylvain’s intention.

In contrast to the quiet changing rooms, the fencing hall had a fair amount of people milling about when Felix walked out in his gear. Unfortunately, most of them were chatting about instead of actually fencing. Felix scoffed, unimpressed. He was uninterested in cheap opponents that came to talk instead of train.

He eyed the figures that were actually doing something and found one that was promising—a man thrusting an épée forward with deceptively simple footwork. He made his movements look effortless; that type of skill made Felix’s heart flutter. An inexperienced fencer would find themselves defeated by such an opponent before they could even so much as blink.

“You—fight me.”

Despite the fact that he was practicing alone, the man was already masked for a bout. He turned to Felix and pointed to himself.

“Yes, _you._ You look like you actually know what you’re doing.”

The man inclined his head and shrugged his shoulders. He was not much of a talker it seemed.

Felix had struck gold.

The man was as skilled as Felix expected him to be; better even. He was a good deal taller than Felix, giving him the advantage of reach but Felix was used to such things; what was worse was his speed: he was unnaturally fast for a man his size. Still, Felix was no beginner. He had been fencing since childhood, picking it up to spend time with his brother, though in the end it was not Glenn he spent the most time fencing with, but Dimitri.

Dimitri had been clumsy at the start, no finesse, no grace, his patience poor, and his unnatural Bladdyid strength useless in a sport built around speed. But more than anything else, Dimitri was stubborn. He wanted to fence with Felix and Glenn, no matter how ill-suited he was for it. He refused to give up and was rewarded for his efforts. As Felix plateaued in their early teens, Dimitri took off, helped on by a sudden growth spurt; during their boarding school days Dimitri was more than a match for him. Felix was never jealous of this turn of events. It made him happy fighting Dimitri and not knowing if he would win or lose. While Sylvain was off sneaking out to flirt with the girls in town, Dimitri and Felix would be locked in battle in the gymnasium, practicing long after the rest of their school’s team had called it quits.

With a final point scored, the bout was over. The stranger had won, but it was a relatively close score. Felix was not dissatisfied in the slightest. He would rather lose than beat an unworthy opponent. He wanted to fight the man again, but it was getting close to his promised lunch with Sylvain.

He took off his mask and smiled. “That was incredible. I had no idea there was someone of your caliber here at the club. I have a prior commitment to attend, but I would love to fight you again. Perhaps we could make an arrangement.”

The man took off his mask. Golden blond hair spilled over his shoulders.

Felix cursed. “You!” He smacked Dimitri’s chest with his mask in a fit of rage.

“I’m glad to see you’ve kept up with your training,” Dimitri said, unperturbed by Felix’s outburst.

“How dare you! I told you to stay away from me!”

Dimitri cocked his head. ”You’re the one that approached me and requested a fight.”

“You tricked me! You were wearing a mask!”

“Tricked you? I was supposed to guess you would show up at the club looking for someone to fight?”

“Just—shut up. I don’t want to hear another word from you.”

“If you’re looking for a training partner, I would happily assist. I’ve only been fencing against El in recent years, and she’s not allowed in the club.”

“Edelgard fences?”

Dimitri shrugged. “She does a little bit of everything.”

“No—no, we’re not doing this. We’re not talking like—nothing has happened. You’ve been gone for five years, Dimitri. _Five years._ ”

Dimitri wiped the sweat off his brow and sighed. “Would you believe me if I said I regret how we parted? I should have done better by you. Not let—things come between us.”

Felix gritted his teeth. He hated the way his body betrayed him, heat rising to his face when Dimitri pushed his hair from his forehead.

The intelligent thing to do was to walk away. A few moons, as Glenn had said, and he would not have to see Dimitri again. Do not engage, do not find an excuse to share Dimitri’s company. It would not end well.

Unfortunately, Felix was the same fool he had always been.

“I don’t feel that way anymore,” Felix lied.

“Feel what way?” Dimitri asked in confusion.

It should have been obvious what Felix was talking about, but not to Dimitri; realizing that made Felix feel sick.

“I no longer think of you in the same way as when we parted.”

“Oh—oh. Of course. It’s been many years after all. It would be strange if you still felt that way.”

Each one of his words stabbed Felix’s heart. It _would_ be strange. Ha! Certainly! It was strange! That was Felix—strange!

“Felix?”

He had started laughing without realizing it.

“Don’t mind me. I just find it endlessly entertaining how you state the obvious. I suppose I shouldn’t let a good practice partner go to waste.”

“Oh—you’ll really fence with me?” He seemed genuinely surprised despite the easy swagger in which he had made the request.

“That’s what I said.”

“I’m glad. That makes me—so happy.” His earnest expression was too much for Felix to look at.

“Hmph. If you’re free, you should join us for lunch.”

“Us?”

“Sylvain is here as well.”

“Oh, are you sure he’ll want to see me?”

“Does it matter? You should face him, and Ingrid eventually, anyway.”

“You’re right as ever, Felix.”

Sylvain was taken aback when he saw Dimitri at Felix’s side, but it was not for the reason Felix expected.

“Did you get taller than me? What have you been eating? Felix, I’m disappointed in you. You neglected to mention Dimitri has the body of an ancient warrior king now.”

Felix was already regretting reuniting them.

“Sylvain, please. I’m not that much taller.”

“I remember when you were this high.” Sylvain held his hand at hip level. “Traveling abroad has clearly agreed with you. Don’t you think so, Felix?"

Felix very much wanted to slice Sylvain to bits with an épée. Alas, all he had were dining utensils as they found a place to sit.

“Leave me out of this.”

“Don’t worry, Felix. I’m sure you’ll have a growth spurt any day now—ow! Did you stab me with a fork?”

Dimitri chuckled. “I’m glad to see some things haven’t changed.”

After ordering their food, Sylvain spoke of his gambling escapades of the day; he had lost a considerable amount and was very pleased by it.

“How have things been?” Dimitri asked when their first dishes were being brought to them.

“You know, a little this, a little that. I graduated from university, Miklan got disinherited, I broke my leg falling from—“

“Your father disinherited Miklan?”

“Ah, you didn’t hear about it? Miklan pissed off our father one too many times, and that was it. Last I heard of him, he was in Leicester.”

“So, you’re the heir now?”

“Yup, isn’t that just grand.” Sylvain’s smile was fake in a way that was not accidental, but a warning.

“I see. I do not mean to pry. My reasons for returning to Fhirdiad at this time are somewhat similar. My uncle is considering naming me heir. He doesn’t believe he will have any children of his own.”

“Considering, but not committing?” Sylvain asked, shrewd as always.

“There are some conditions. Namely, he wishes to see me betrothed, if not wed, by the end of the year.”

Felix dropped his spoon into his soup, splashing the table. “That’s hypocritical of him.” The Grand Duke of Itha was a notorious bachelor.

“I suppose he doesn’t see the point of passing down his title if I’m going to follow in his footsteps.”

“How ridiculous,” Felix scoffed.

“He has quite a few years left in him, I’m sure,” Sylvain said. “Why the rush to see you married?”

Dimitri crushed his napkin in his hands. “He has his reasons.”

“He has a bride picked out for you, doesn’t he?” Sylvain really was too shrewd.

“Perceptive as usual, Sylvain. He wishes to see me wed to Edelgard.”

“She’s practically your sister,” Felix growled. Though they were cousins, Edelgard had moved into the Bladdyid household at thirteen, after the death of her father.

“Not by blood. Nonetheless, it’s certainly distasteful, which is why I’m here to seek an alternative arrangement.”

“Well you’re in luck,” Sylvain said, “with me on your side, we’ll definitely find you the perfect bride.”

“Sylvain, I appreciate the offer but I’ll have to decline.”

“You’re as bad as Felix. Neither of you are any fun. He keeps rejecting my offers as well. That reminds me, you’ll be at Annette’s dinner party, right?”

Considering Sir Gustave was a dear family friend to the Blaiddyds, it was a likely chance Dimitri would be among the guests. Felix had been debating the merits of going as a result; on the one hand, he did not want to upset Annette but on the other, he wanted to avoid Dimitri even more. Since the second problem was no longer an issue, he supposed that meant he would be going after all.

“She’ll be happy to see you,” Felix said.

“I can’t imagine why,” Dimitri said in that self-deprecating way of his. “Will you be attending, Felix?”

“I’ve been considering it.”

Dimitri’s expression lit up considerably. “Oh? If you’re attending, then I shall as well.”

Felix felt his face heat up; he looked away from Dimitri and stared into his soup.

“I’ll also be there,” Sylvain said. “Just so you know.”

“Yes, I did assume so since you brought it up,” Dimitri emphasized his words slowly as if Sylvain had said something remarkably foolish.

“Good, good,” Sylvain said before flagging a waiter down to order a drink.

_____

After lunch, Felix managed to squeeze out several more hours of fencing practice from Dimitri, much to Sylvain’s chagrin. He attempted to cajole them into a pub crawl, claiming it would be much more enjoyable than “poking each other with sticks” but neither Felix nor Dimitri took him up on his offer, their preferences as aligned as ever.

When Felix finally returned to the townhouse, Glenn was eating what appeared to be breakfast in the dining room. He was still in his nightclothes; Felix had half a mind to scold him for it before realizing it was something their old man would do. How vexing. Felix had picked up some of their old man’s stodginess without meaning to; perhaps leaving Fraldarius had been for the best.

“I hope you stabbed Sylvain,” Glenn said as he flipped through the evening paper. “Ah, we won the Test match against Adrestia, finally. We’ll be playing Duscur next then. I’ve heard their team is quite formidable this season.”

Felix would never understand his brother’s fondness for cricket. It was the dullest sport ever created; he would rather visit every pub in Faerghus with Sylvain than sit through a single cricket match—it would probably take less time as well.

“Dimitri was at the club.”

Glenn hummed thoughtfully. “Did you stab him as well?”

“Yes, quite a few times.”

Glenn snorted. “That’s good then. Do you feel better now that you’ve ended the Blaiddyd line?”

Felix made a face.

While Glenn could be socially oblivious at times, he had a particular astuteness when it came to Felix; he set the paper down and turned serious.

“What’s wrong?”

“His uncle is demanding he marry someone suitable by dangling the Grand Duchy in front of him like a prize.”

“How hypocritical.”

“Isn’t it? And that isn’t even the end of it. His uncle wants him to marry Edelgard, but Dimitri is thoroughly opposed to the idea and is looking to find a different bride.”

“So that’s why he’s return to Fhirdiad.”

Felix nodded. “Seems so.”

The goddess must have some sort of vendetta against Felix to reunite him with Dimitri just as he started searching for a bride.

“I’m sorry, Felix.”

“What for? This was always going to happen. I knew that even when—”

Glenn stood and enveloped Felix in his arms.

“What are you doing?” Felix hissed, too shocked to break free.

“It’s called a ‘hug.’ I’ve read about them in books. Is it working?”

“If its purpose is to anger me, then yes.” Their family had never been big on displays affection. As a child, he had craved such things and it had driven him to seek it elsewhere, namely from Dimitri.

“Oh good,” Glenn said dryly, “That was the intention.”

Felix stomped on his foot.

_____

Miss Annette Dominic was the beloved (and somewhat spoiled) only child of Sir Gustave Dominic. For much of Annette’s childhood, Sir Gustave had served as a household tutor for the Blaiddyd family, leading him to be chronically absent from his own daughter’s life. It was not until Dimitri’s enrollment in boarding school that Sir Gustave had begun to spend time with his family again and, as far as Felix could tell, he had been obsessively making up for it since.

Though they shared a connection through Dimitri and Gustave, Felix had actually met Annette through Ingrid. They had attended the same finishing school together along with a third girl, an Adrestian noble named Miss Mercedes von Martritz, and had become fast friends. While Ingrid had returned to Galatea, Annette had followed after Mercedes to the College of Sorcery in Fhirdiad, and had just graduated this moon. Sir Gustave, for all his faults (of which there were many in Felix’s opinion), had not dissuaded his daughter from furthering her education, nor had he ever placed any expectations upon her for marriage. If anything, Felix suspected he would prefer if she remained unwed but would begrudgingly tolerate any spouse she may one day take. She was his only daughter, blessed with a Crest and a mind for magic: he had no desire to see her tied to another house and family.

The Dominic residence was a cheerful, yellow townhouse facing the southern side of Loog Park. The home did not suit Sir Gustave in the slightest, but it was the perfect match for the lively Annette.

An enthusiastic hugger, she nearly knocked Felix to the ground when he (along with Sylvain) arrived for dinner. It was most improper, but he allowed it as he was not in the business of caring about propriety whenever he could help it.

“Gosh, it’s been ages!” Like Dimitri, she spoke with a posh Faerghus accent. “I haven’t seen you since the we—the Western Church sermon we both attended.” She glanced very obviously in Ingrid’s direction.

Ingrid sighed. “It’s fine, you can say the word wedding. It’s not as everyone here doesn’t know what happened.”

“I’m sorry, Ingrid! I spoke without thinking. I just wanted to say it’s been a very long time since Felix has shown his face in Fhirdiad. It’s quite rude of him!”

“You were at Sylvain’s birthday party,” Felix said.

“That was nearly a year ago! Seriously Felix, you’re such a recluse. Would it kill you to visit sometime?” She berated him for a while longer, stopping only when another set of guests were ushered into the drawing room.

Dimitri had arrived, along with his step-cousin, Lady Edelgard von Arundel, and a third guest—a tall man with light hair and brown skin Felix had never seen before.

“Thank you, Annette, for allowing me to bring guests. I hope I haven’t troubled you too much,” Dimitri said.

“Not at all! I told you already, I’m just happy you decided to come! No one has seen you in years. When Father said you had returned, I just knew I had to invite you and I’m so glad I did! But forget all that, where are my manners? You must introduce your mysterious guests!”

“Ah,” Dimitri said, looking embarrassed. “This is my cousin, the Lady Edelgard and a dear companion of mine, Mr Dedue Molinaro. We met while I was in Duscur some years ago.”

Mr Molinaro inclined his head.

The words _dear companion_ ricocheted in Felix’s heart. “When you went with Glenn?” he asked, referring to a trip they had taken during the summer of Felix and Dimitri’s first year at boarding school. Felix was supposed to have gone as well, but he had gotten sick and had not been allowed to by his father. He had cried for days because of it.

Dimitri looked surprised he had remembered—as if Felix could forget the misery of that year! “Yes, actually. We reunited while I was on a trip to Duscur a few years ago.”

So. Felix had been replaced.

“Duscur, huh?” Sylvain asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Tell me, what are Duscur women like?”

“You must be Sylvain.” Mr Molinaro spoke with the same upper class accent as Dimitri and Annette but on him it was most unnatural as he had not grown up in Faerghus, let alone among Fhirdiad’s elite.

“Dimitri, what’s this? You’ve been talking about me?”

“Well…”

“Dimitri talks of all his friends,” Mr Molinaro said sincerely. “While he may have been absent these past five years, do not think he has forgotten any of you.”

“You’re embarrassing him, Dedue,” Edelgard said, her Adrestian accent as thick as ever.

“My apologies. I did not mean to speak out of turn.”

“That’s quite all right,” Dimitri said hastily. “Annette, I brought a Dagdan vintage for Gustave, wherever may I put it?”

“Oh! Let’s see—“

The dinner party was not a large group but the guest list was a difficult one for Felix, as he did not run in the same social circles as Annette. There were several guests he only knew in passing or by reputation. One such acquaintance was Lady Lysithea von Ordelia, a prickly girl Annette knew from the College of Sorcery. Lysithea had been in another room when Dimitri’s party had arrived and had missed their introduction. When she returned, she did something completely unexpected: she bared her teeth at them and growled. Edelgard, of all people, had the nerve to growl back.

“Lysithea!” Annette exclaimed.

“El, please. We’re not here to pick a fight,” Dimitri said calmly.

“What are you two doing here?” Lady Lysithea snarled. She stood as if readying for an attack.

“Oh, have you all met before?” Mercedes asked sweetly.

“No,” all three of them replied.

“That’s not weird and suspicious at all,” Sylvain muttered.

Mr Molinaro shifted uncomfortably. For some reason, he alone had escaped Lysithea’s wrath.

“Lady Lysithea,” Mr Molinaro said, “you’ll find we come in peace.”

Finally, Lysithea relaxed. “Hmph! If you say so.”

With that, the tension dissolved.

The final two guests, Lord Lorenz Hellman Gloucester and Lady Constance von Nuvelle, arrived fashionably late. Felix took an instant dislike to them both, especially Lorenz who was pompous and arrogant and smelled like he had dipped himself in kerosene, though he claimed it was rose oil when Lady Edelgard, her entire body angled away from him, asked. The way he spoke was grating as well; though he and Lady Lysithea were both from Leicester, their accents were nothing alike; hers was soft and lilting while his was obnoxious and smarmy.

While Lady Constance was more tolerable in that standing next to her did not make Felix gag, she made up for this virtue by being horrifyingly, painfully _loud_. Her earsplitting laugh was that of a badly acted opera villain.

As far as Felix was concerned, Lorenz and Constance were a match made by the goddess, two twits with overly high opinions of themselves, but somehow they did not get along at all. They argued frequently and heatedly, on everything from Annette’s napkins (“unfashionable” according to Lorenz, and “quite divine” according to Constance) to complex magical theory (“It simply can’t be done!” “You have no imagination!”) which in turn triggered Lysithea into joining the fight (“You will get yourself killed if you expel so much magic at once, Constance!”). Felix, whose magical abilities were limited to shooting lighting and healing small cuts, could not even grasp what they were arguing about, and just wished they would shut up. If not for the fact that he was sharing a carriage with Sylvain, Felix would have left after the first course, where Constance had set fire to the tablecloth in a magical demonstration gone awry.

In fact, he was still considering leaving anyway when Dimitri, who was sitting next to him, turned to him and asked, “Would care for my meat?”

Understandably, Felix choked on his food.

A frightful round of coughing followed that even had Lorenz looking at him in concern (though likely it was because if Felix died at dinner, Lorenz would not be able to take back the spotlight).

Eventually, with the help of several hefty swigs of wine, Felix managed to calm himself down enough to ask, “What?”

“I just thought, since it’s one of your favorite dishes…” Dimitri was, of course, referring to the meat on his plate which appeared to be completely untouched.

Felix glowered. “I’m not going to take food from a man that has barely eaten anything.”

“I have a small appetite,” Dimitri said preposterously.

“What nonsense. If you don’t eat something I’m rescinding my open invitation to fence with you at the club.”

“Felix, that’s entirely unfair. I can’t control my lack of appetite.”

Mr Molinaro coughed. “Dimitri, you did not have breakfast. Nor lunch. I’m worried—“

“Not you too, Dedue! Fine, fine. I know when I’m outnumbered.” Though he grumbled and fussed, he managed to clear most of his plate which was enough to satisfy Felix.

They both abstained from dessert, causing Lysithea to feel personally affronted, as she had helped Annette pick the cake.

“What do you _mean_ you don’t like sweet things?” she asked Felix. “Everyone likes sweet things!”

“I simply don’t see the appeal.”

To Felix’s surprise, Edelgard began glaring at him as well.

“I think you have excellent taste, Lysithea,” Edelgard said, dismissing him with a turn of her head.

Edelgard and Lysithea chatted animatedly about the perfect fluffy, softness of the cake’s filling and the delectable arrangement of the strawberries on top, all previous hostility between the two women forgotten. Felix found it deeply unnerving; he did not know Edelgard well as she had joined the Blaiddyd household when she was older and had always kept to herself, usually to study, leaving him with the impression that she was overly serious to the point of being severe; to see her smiling and laughing with Lysithea made him question his eyes and ears.

When dinner was over, the small party of guests dispersed upstairs to the drawing room. Edelgard and Lysithea took turns playing Annette’s pianoforte; both of them were quite gifted, in a showy, flashy way; Felix would have preferred hearing the catchy little tunes Annette composed herself than the types of pieces they played, but she was too busy interrogating Dimitri to do join them.

“Where have you been these past five years? Father said you were traveling but he would never say where. It was quite rude of you to disappear like that!”

“My apologies.” Dimitri’s eye briefly flitted to Felix. “I was feely slightly unmoored at the time of my graduation and thought a change of scenery might help. I went to Duscur first, as it was at least somewhat familiar to me. After that it was Almyra, then Leicester, Morfis, Adrestia, Brigid, Dagda, Sreng—really, it’s been one place after another.”

“Oh, you really have been everywhere! But as exciting as that sounds, I hope you’re here to stay. Or at least, you must keep in touch this time if you decide to leave again!”

“It wasn’t my intention to fall out of touch with everyone, but as the years passed I convinced myself you wouldn’t want to hear from me anyway.” He stared unsubtly at Felix who, from the moment Dimitri had mentioned their graduation, had stopped feeling charitable.

Unmoored, was it? What a farce.

“Dimitri!” Annette exclaimed. “I’m certain not a single one of us felt that way. We would have been happy to hear from you.”

Felix, Sylvain, and Ingrid stayed silent. It did not escape Dimitri’s notice. “That’s kind of you to say,” he replied, his smile strained.

Ingrid and Sylvain did not know the full truth of Felix’s falling out with Dimitri. He had given them scant details and had clammed up whenever they asked for more. Yet, with Dimitri’s departure and subsequent inability to keep in touch with them, they had naturally come to their own conclusions over who was in the wrong. Felix should have dissuaded them, but in his hurt he had said nothing, allowing them to unfairly believe the worst of Dimitri when the situation had not been that simple. Felix had fought with Dimitri throughout their last year of school, but it was not those pointless, silly fights that had ruined their friendship. Felix, afraid Dimitri was slipping away from him in those last days before graduation, had done something in the heat of the moment which, in great irony, had ended their eighteen years of friendship and had led Dimitri to leave the country.

He had learned a great lesson from it, at least: he knew now to be careful in sharing any bits of his heart.

Felix could not bear to listen to Annette question Dimitri any longer and drifted out of earshot, settling into a chair at the far corner of the room. He watched the rest of the guests mingle and chat with one another. Ingrid struck up a conversation with Mercedes, Sylvain flagged down Mr Molinaro, Lorenz and Constance had a spat by the pianoforte, and Edelgard and Lysithea played a loud duet.

Felix wanted to go home.

When the late Duke Fraldarius, Felix’s grandfather, had still been alive, his father, then Lord Rodrigue had been a great lover of society: when he was not throwing a party, he was attending one, and he happily dragged his sons along whenever appropriate. In those days, Felix had not minded as it was a rare party for Dimitri not to attend (himself dragged along by Lord Lambert and Lady Anselma) giving the three boys a chance to play while the adults talked nonsense. Eventually, Glenn had been shipped off to boarding school and their trio had whittled down to two, but Felix had not minded that either as it meant he did not have to compete with Glenn for Dimitri’s attention.

Eventually, Annette let Dimitri be, setting her sights on Constance and Lorenz instead, likely because they were being an eyesore.

Felix stood, wanting suddenly to speak to Dimitri but he had walked off and joined Mr Molinaro and Sylvain by the windows. They were much too far for Felix to hear over the noise of everything else, but it did not matter when he saw Dimitri laugh at something Mr Molinaro said. The light from the lamp posts shone on him through the windows, bathing him in a soft glow.

Felix’s feet refused to move. He was frozen, staring at Dimitri from afar with an ache in his chest he wished he did not know the origin of.

Five years, five years and he was no better than before. He had forced his grief into becoming anger—he had thought himself so clever for it, so prepared, but he had let it be swept away in an instant, like a fool.

No, that was not the truth. His anger had always been flimsy, like a shield made out of paper; he had made it that way on purpose so it would be easy for something to cut through it.

Pathetic. He was pathetic. Because nothing had changed. The chasm between him and Dimitri was still there—he was just pretending it had gone away. They were in the same country, the same city, the same room—but it did not matter. Felix was still a lonely mess who wanted more from Dimitri than he could give him.

Felix returned to his chair and did not talk to anyone until it was time to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh yeah, the werewolf stuff isn’t going to happen for a while 🤡


	2. great tree moon (part i)

Following Annette’s dinner party, Felix decided he was done with the season and locked himself in the townhouse with Glenn, ignoring the collection of calling cards and invitations piling up in the foyer. Unfortunately, his carefully planned brooding was ruined by the arrival of Duke Fraldarius at the start of the New Year.

With the addition of the Duke, the once peaceful townhouse took on the frantic energy of a train depot. In such an atmosphere, any vows of isolation became impossible to carry out. Every time Felix stepped out of his room, he would find his father in amidst of politicking with stuffy old man; every morning, every afternoon, every evening there was a swarming of guests there to see the Duke. In Faerghus, House Fraldarius was second in age only to the House Blaiddyd, but far richer as their money and wealth had not been divided in the same way; the right sons had borne the right Crests. Felix and Glenn were the anomalies as it was Felix who had a major Crest and Glenn who had none at all, but with Felix’s lack of interest in women the odds of him starting a cadet branch, though not impossible, were certainly poor. House Fraldarius’s wealth would pass on to Glenn without issue. But that was not going to happen any time soon as the old man was nowhere near death and would probably live to a spry hundred just to spite his sons.

Four days after their old man’s arrival, even Glenn was scrambling to get out of the house, unable to take another minute of the old man and his admirers running about, ruining his hermitry.

“Ah, Glenn, Felix! Heading out to enjoy the sunshine? You know, it looks as if it’s going to snow again in Fraldarius. The weather was quite chilly when I left. The clouds—“

“Bye!” Glenn screeched as he hurried past their old man to the front door.

Felix grunted a goodbye as well and chased after his brother before he was subjected to hearing about the cloud formations the Duke saw on his way to Fhirdiad.

“When is he _leaving_?” Felix hissed once they had successfully managed to escape.

“Not soon enough.”

The Fraldarius residence was located in one of the oldest neighborhoods of the city on a street lined with large, stately houses that spoke of wealth and power. It was not far from the Fhirdiad Parliament Building; as such, a great many politicians lived in the area.

Dimitri’s father was one such man. A former barrister turned politician, he had inherited the Blaiddyd family home in Fhirdiad: a grand, sprawling estate across from Kyphon Hill. Though it was no longer in fashion to choose heirs based on Crests, depending on the family there were still privileges to being born with one. Likely, it was Lambert’s Crest that had convinced the late Grand Duke to split the Blaiddyd’s wealth and give the Fhirdiad residence to his younger son; doing so had caused a great deal of friction between the two brothers; even as a child Felix had noticed it the few times the Grand Duke had visited Fhirdiad.

Felix did not have to ask to know Glenn was leading them to Kyphon Hill. He had not forgotten the way there. Much of his childhood had been spent traversing the park’s grounds, playing all manner of games with his friends and Glenn. It was the perfect meeting place for them as the Fraldarius residence was just to the east, the Gautier residence the west, and the Galatea residence the south. They would come together at the park and run wild as only children could, uncaring of the consequences.

The “hill” at Kyphon Hill was barely worthy of the name, but when Felix was a child, it had felt as high as a mountain; he had rolled down it hundreds if not thousands of times, shrieking in delight and putting grass stains on his clothes. As an adult, he found the hill unimpressive. What had aged much better were the trees: the neighborhood of Kyphon Hill had once been part of a forest, but the park was all that was left of it. The trees were densest in the center of the park, creating isolated spots perfect for children _and_ adults to get lost in. As Felix and Glenn walked further in, the sounds of the city faded away. It was almost like being back home in Fraldarius, so isolated did it feel at the heart of the park.

“Isn’t that the tree Sylvain fell from when he broke his arm?” Glenn asked, pointing ahead.

Felix squinted. “I think so?” Sylvain was the worst of them at climbing trees, though Dimitri was nearly as bad for different reasons. Only Ingrid had provided any competition on the tree climbing front for Felix, who had often utilized them in games of hide-and-seek, knowing when Sylvain and Dimitri would never be able to tag him. He was pretty certain climbing after Felix was the reason Sylvain had broken his arm in the first place.

“Thank you, Lord Tree, for your service.” Glenn bowed dramatically.

“Are you still angry about Sylvain waking you up?” Glenn and Sylvain usually got along just fine; it used to be Miklan that earned Glenn’s ire, along with one of Ingrid’s older brothers. Miklan he did not like because no one liked Miklan, he had been unpleasant even as a child, but his irritation with Ingrid’s brother was some petty grudge that came about during a cricket match; Felix did not care to know the details.

“That, among other things. Though it’s inaccurate to call it anger; it’s more like frustration.”

“Why are you frustrated with Sylvain?” Beyond the times Sylvain dropped by to see Felix, they had not interacted recently; he could see no reason for Glenn to feel more frustrated with Sylvain than usual. He was his same irritating self, but that had never bothered Glenn before.

“I get tired of watching him hesitate, that’s all.”

“Hesitate? Are we talking about the same Sylvain?”

“Never you mind,” Glenn said harshly. “It’s none of your business.”

Felix stood there gap mouthed. None of his business? Sylvain was his friend more than he was Glenn’s. What in the world was going on between them? What nonsense petty grudge had Glenn conjured up?

Before he could pester Glenn for an answer, two tall figures came into sight and with them all thoughts of Sylvain and Glenn whooshed from his head.

Dimitri and Mr Molinaro were walking through the trees, heading towards Felix and Glenn. It should not have been such a shock; after all, Dimitri lived across the road from Kyphon Hill, of course he ventured into the park. And why would he not be with Mr Molinaro? From what Felix had gathered, Mr Molinaro was living at the Blaiddyd residence as well. Which was fine and did not bother Felix at all.

Dimitri, who had been conversing with Mr Molinaro, finally looked ahead and saw the Fraldarius brothers.

“Felix!” They were quite a distance away, but his loud exclamation likely had been heard even at the edge of the park.

Felix was tempted to hide in a tree, but it was much too late; Dimitri was already half-jogging toward them. If he had been a dog, Felix was certain his tail would have been wagging, such was the impression he gave off in his excitement.

Mr Molinaro did not share in his enthusiasm and followed after Dimitri at a considerably slower trot.

“Felix, what a surprise!” Dimitri said when he had caught up to them.

“Dimitri, hello.” Felix felt as if he were the one who had been running.

“I’m also here,” Glenn said. “In case you didn’t notice.”

“You still visit Kyphon Hill,” Dimitri said, smiling at Felix. “I mean, I suppose it’s not a surprise. It’s a very nice park.”

“Yes. It’s a very nice park,” Felix echoed foolishly.

“Oh, is that the tree Sylvain fell from when we were children?”

“Oh, yes. I think so.”

“I remember you cried up such a storm! I had thought it was you who had been injured! My heart nearly gave out.”

“You should have known better. It was always you and Sylvain who couldn’t climb to save your life.”

Dimitri laughed. “That’s true, we were—“

“Have I gone invisible?” Glenn interrupted crossly.

“Oh, yes! Hello, Glenn. It’s been many years, but you might remember Dedue. He was the youth from Duscur who assisted our party.” Dimitri turned to find Dedue a good distance away, having not caught up yet. “Ah.”

“Yes, I remember Dedue. You also mentioned him in your letters. All. The. Time.” Glenn made no attempt to hide his irritation. “Did you forget? How unlike you.”

“Oh—that’s right. Of course.” Dimitri chuckled nervously and stared at Mr Molinaro until he finally caught up.

“Lord Glenn, Lord Felix,” Mr Molinaro said, inclining his head.

“Dedue, my word you’ve certainly gotten tall. Dimitri, you as well. Why.”

“I beg your pardon?” Dimitri asked.

“Even Sylvain… all of shot up like little weeds,” Glenn grumbled. “Only Felix here has any respect for his elders.”

“Oi.”

“Yes, it’s very thoughtful of him,” Dimitri said, amused.

“Oi!” Felix did not appreciate the turn of the conversation one bit.

“Anyway, Dedue, isn’t it fortuitous we ran into Felix?” Dimitri asked excitedly.

“And Lord Glenn,” Mr Molinaro added.

“Yes, thank you. At least someone can remember I’m here.”

“My father,” Dimitri continued as if Glenn had not spoken, “is planning on inviting the Duke to dinner. I was hoping you might attend as well.”

“To clarify, are you just inviting Felix?” Glenn asked.

“No! No,” Dimitri said hastily. “The invitation extends to you both.”

“I suppose, as long as I’m not already busy.” Felix stared at the ground as it was difficult to form sentences when he was looking at Dimitri.

“Since when do you have things to do?” Glenn asked rudely. “Obviously we’ll be there.”

“Splendid! I look forward to it. Actually, Dedue will be cooking part of the meal. A Duscur dish, I think you’ll like it, Felix.”

 _Cooking?_ _He was cooking?_ Felix looked up Mr Molinaro and frowned. Dimitri spoke of Mr Molinaro as a friend, but he was making him cook like a servant?

His confusion must have shown, for Dimitri added, “Cooking is a hobby of Dedue’s, as is gardening.”

“It’s good to have practical hobbies,” Glenn said smartly. “Not that I speak from experience.”

“How _is_ your research progressing?” Dimitri asked. “In your last letter, you mentioned you hit a roadblock?”

“Which still stands. I’ve been attempting to approach it from a different angle, but it hasn’t born fruit.”

“Give it time. I’m sure you’ll figure it out. How were the maps I sent?”

Mr Molinaro coughed. “Dimitri, your appointment.”

“Ah, that’s right! I’m sorry, but I have an appointment I must prepare for. I was nice seeing you, Felix. And Glenn.”

He turned around twice while walking away, both times looking horribly embarrassed at having been caught. Felix did not know what to make of it. Felix did not know what to make of anything Dimitri did.

“I can’t stand any of you,” Glenn said.

“What did I do?” Felix asked, puffing up defensively.

“‘As long as I’m not already busy,’” Glenn singsonged in a high pitched tone that was not in the slightest like Felix’s deep voice.

“Well, I could be!”

“I deserve a medal for what I put up with, I really do.”

“The only medal you’re getting is one for being the world’s biggest prat.”

Glenn smacked him on the head and ran, forcing Felix to chase him all the way home; once there, he tackled Glenn into a bush and wrestled him valiantly, at least until their old man came and whacked them both his cane for making a scene in front of the prime minister.

_____

It had been many years since Felix had last visited the Blaiddyd residence. He went in expecting everything to have changed, but of course that was not the case at all. In such an old residence (and one that had belonged to generations of the same family) change was slow to come. The most noticeable change was the greenhouse built for Dimitri’s birth mother had been dusted off and put to use by Mr Molinaro.

“Dedue plans on restoring Mother’s shed as well, but I’m afraid that won’t be done for some time. It’s been difficult enough dealing with the greenhouse, and it’s not even half as messy as the shed.”

Dimitri badly toured them through the greenhouse, having forgotten half the names of the plants within.

“No wolf’s bane?” Felix asked, recalling the name of the flower that had captivated him at Lord Lonato’s party.

“Definitely not,” Dimitri said with a frown.

“You’re not a fan?” Felix asked.

Glenn made a strange face and laughed.

“What?” Felix asked, feeling peevish as he sensed his brother was once again making fun of him.

“Nothing, nothing. I hope dinner is ready soon. I haven’t eaten anything since yesterday."

“Glenn!” Dimitri exclaimed, horrified.

“It’s less dramatic than he makes it sound. He’s not _you_. He only just woke up an hour ago.”

“That’s—that’s very late.”

Glenn clicked his tongue. “You would sleep all day as well if your house became a branch of the Blue Lions club. I swear Father is doing it on purpose to punish me.”

“You were sleeping in all day even before the old man came back,” Felix pointed out.

“That was different. That was for research purposes. Now I have no choice on the matter.”

Felix rolled his eyes.

Dimitri chuckled. Felix wished he could bottle the sound somehow and listen to it whenever he wanted.

Mr Molinaro had been busy cooking when they had arrived. He joined them for dinner, along with Edelgard and Lady Anselma. Lord Lambert and Felix’s old man dominated the dinner conversation, both of them loud and enthusiastic—Lord Lambert especially so. Dimitri had always taken more after Lady Anselma in terms of personality, despite the fact that they were not related by blood. She was a fairly reserved woman and somewhat prone to melancholia, but she was sweet in her affections and many mannerisms that were reminiscent of Dimitri; he was at least much more like her than he was Lord Lambert, who had an alarmingly bombastic personality; his speaking voice was so loud Felix was always convinced that at any moment he was going to break a window.

“Felix, how have things been?” Lord Lambert asked with a grin. “Rodrigue talks about you all the time, of course. But parents don’t always know what their children are up to!” He winked.

“ _Father,_ ” Dimitri whined.

“Whatever my ol—father told you is likely true enough. I’ve been assisting him with things, training in my spare time—that sort of thing.” He felt embarrassed by his lack of accomplishments, especially compared to all the traveling Dimitri had done. Felix had, for all intents and purposes, pissed away the past five years of his life doing nothing of value. No wonder his old man wanted him out of Fraldarius.

“Ah, to be young and free to do whatever you please! All of you boys should take care to appreciate these years. When you’re married, you won’t be able to get away with such things."

Dimitri shrank at his words; Lord Lambert took no notice of it.

“The things Rodrigue and I used to get up to when we were young, ha! You wouldn’t believe it. We’re lucky to be alive, dueling was much more in vogue those days. After I married Dimitri’s mother, I had to give it all up! I could no longer spend every night out, going from party to party with Rodrigue. She even hid my dueling sword from me! You remember the one, Rodrigue? That pair we had made. I never did find it.”

“Ah, yes, I still have mine hanging in my study,” the Duke said fondly.

“Only because after Glenn was born you had already put your sword to rest!” Lord Lambert laughed. “You’ll see boys, wives do not tolerate these things! Better get it out of your system while you still can.”

“How terrible,” Glenn said; Felix winced, already knowing his brother was about to say something that would cause offense. “I’m certainly glad I didn’t caught up in such a difficult ordeal as marriage.”

Felix wanted to smack his forehead; it was a near thing that he didn’t.

“Glenn, please,” the Duke said, sounding weary.

For a moment Lord Lambert looked quite taken aback, but then he burst into riotous laughter. “There are perks of married life as well! If it was all doom and gloom, no one would do it. My complaints are all petty ones. I have my son, and now El in my life. Children are a wonderful thing, they are worth any amount of sacrifice. I look forward to the day when I’ll have grandchildren as well.”

Lord Lambert’s words were spikes around Felix’s heart. _Grandchildren._ Of course. It was what his old man wanted as well. Unfortunately, Felix could not easily give him any. Not without destroying a piece of his soul in the process.

“I’m not interested in that sort of thing,” Glenn said with his too sharp tongue. “Don’t misunderstand me, I have nothing against children. But I don’t desire any of my own. I find the process of it distasteful.”

Lord Lambert, known for his stirring speeches and ability to win over any courtroom, was at a loss. The entire table was. Even the servants overhearing them could not conceal their surprise.

“Glenn Fraldarius, that’s not an appropriate thing to say at dinner! Or—or at any time!”

“I didn’t mean pregnancy,” Glenn clarified unnecessarily, “but the part before. The making of children. I’m not a fan of that part.”

“We knew perfectly well what you meant!” The Duke was turning purple. “There are ladies present! Where are your manners! Your propriety!”

Despite his concern for the ladies, it appeared they were not quite as scandalized as him. Edelgard was holding a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing, and while Lady Anselma’s eyebrows had shot up into her hairline, her expression was most wry.

“I don’t see what’s wrong in admitting that,” Glenn said petulantly. “I’m certain there are other people who think like me. In fact, isn’t Uncle of the same sort? Or does he just like men?”

The Duke looked like he was about to faint. Edelgard, on the other hand, lost her battle to stay silent and burst out laughing.

“Is it really that funny?” Glenn asked irritably.

“Not at all, I have no opinion on the matter,” Edelgard said between snickers. “But the looks on everyone’s faces—it really is too much!”

She was not wrong. Aside from Lady Anselma wry expression, there was Dimitri, who was having the sort of embarrassed reaction one might expect a young maiden like Edelgard to have instead, and Mr Molinaro, whose faint blush was slightly less dramatic, but he was staring so firmly at his plate it was like he was expecting his meal to start talking.

“Ah, well,” Lord Lambert stumbled. “Well. Well! Everyone, you simply must try Dedue’s dish. There’s a great deal of spice, but don’t let that put you off!”

When Felix got around to trying it, he was forced to admit Dimitri had been right—he did enjoy Mr Molinaro’s cooking quite a bit.

_____

“Why did you say all that?” Felix asked Glenn when they had retired to the drawing room.

“Because it’s true?”

Felix frowned. “You’ve really gone and upset the old man this time, Glenn. Are you _trying_ to get him to disown you?”

“The only thing I’m ‘trying’ to get him to do is to wake up from his delusions. Besides, it’s not about him. It was Lord Lambert—ugh. He was saying such unnecessary things. Speaking of the virtue of marriage and having _babies_. Not everyone wants such things. And not everyone can have them either.”

Suddenly, Felix understood why his brother had been so angry. He had sensed how Lord Lambert’s words had hurt Felix and Glenn, being an utter fool but an utter fool who _cared_ , had struck back. His tongue was always sharpest when he was using it in defense of someone else.

“Is this why you wouldn’t marry Ingrid?” Felix asked curiously. “Because you’re uninterested in… such things?”

Glenn looked surprised by his question. “No, marrying Ingrid was not a problem in that regard. There were other factors at play behind my decision.”

“Like what?”

“Like mind your own business.”

“Why is it that I tell you everything, yet you always keep things a secret from me?”

“Not every secret is mine to tell, little brother. Speaking of secrets I’m sworn to keep—Dimitri, I can see you staring. You’re free to join us, you know. It’s your drawing room. Look, there’s even some space next to Felix.”

There was not, until Glenn moved into an armchair, freeing up the spot he had been sitting at.

Dimitri, rather than asking Glenn what in the world he was doing, nonchalantly sat in Glenn’s former seat, as if Glenn abruptly getting up and moving was not strange at all.

“Felix, Glenn. That certainly was an interesting dinner.”

“Yes, very,” Glenn said.

“Mr Molinaro cooks well,” Felix said quickly before Glenn could derail the conversation.

“I’m so glad to hear it was to your tastes. El and stepmother, unfortunately, aren’t big fans of Duscur cuisine and as I can’t taste anything, Dedue has only had my father to appreciate his cooking.”

“What do you mean you can’t taste anything?” Felix could not believe his ears. Dimitri could not taste anything? That was impossible. Surely Felix would have noticed.

“Ah. Yes. I lost my sense of taste some years ago. Don’t worry, it’s not strictly necessary to have.”

“Not necessary?” Felix did not like his answer one bit. “You should have said something.”

“I did not want to cause you worry.”

“Are you being serious right now? How could you keep me in the dark about this? You and Glenn—“

“Glenn?” Dimitri looked alarmed.

“As I told Felix, not every secret is mine to tell,” Glenn said, annoyed. “Of course, if I had the choice, I would tell Felix everything. I wouldn’t keep him in the dark and hide my true self from him.”

“Isn’t that exactly what you did?” Felix accused. “I had no idea you were uninterested in—in children.”

Glenn tsked. “I wasn’t trying to keep that from you. You just assumed it without asking, despite the fact that you—“ He cut off, realizing Dimitri was still there. “Well, you know. The point is, there are _some_ secrets that _certain_ people shouldn’t have asked me to keep, but have.”

“Is this about Ingrid?” Felix asked, attempting to piece together Glenn’s cryptic words.

Glenn smacked his forehead. “I can’t stand any of you, I really can’t.”

“Why are you always like this!” Felix complained. “Just speak plainly!”

“Now, now,” Dimitri said. “There’s no need to fight. Glenn, I’m _certain_ those people have their reasons.”

“Oh, I’m sure. But are they _good_ reasons? Are they?”

“Why don’t we change the subject? Clearly, we’re not going to agree on this.”

Glenn huffed but gave in. Soon after, Mr Molinaro joined them though, as Felix was finding out, he was not much of a talker. He rarely chimed in on his own; most of what he said was coaxed out of him by Dimitri. Not even Glenn could get him to talk though they had met before. Then again, it had been nearly a decade and Glenn was already an adult when they met.

“If you aren’t otherwise busy,” Dimitri said sometimes later, “I was wondering—a few of us will be heading to the Rhodos Coast in a week. I would love for you two to join us. I was thinking of inviting Sylvain as well.”

Glenn answered first. “I’ll have to pass. If you’re inviting Sylvain, you might as well invite Ingrid too.”

“I’m not busy,” Felix blurted out. “I can make it. And Glenn is probably right. You know she hates being left out.”

Dimitri smiled in that puppy-dog way of his that made Felix feel like he needed to leave the room and stare at a dark wall. “I’ll invite them both then. It’s been so long since we’ve all done something together. I missed you all, truly. I know now how foolish I was being.”

“It’s my fault,” Felix said carelessly.

“Your fault?” Dimitri asked, confusion marring his lovely smile.

Felix stared at his lap. He was a fool; he had forgotten they were not alone. Though Glenn knew what Felix spoke of, Mr Molinaro did not. Felix hoped Mr Molinaro did not.

“How we parted. I should have kept certain things to myself.”

“Felix—“

“Please, let’s not talk of this. I’m sorry you won’t be joining us Glenn. You’ll have to deal with the old man by yourself.”

Glenn was a little too slow in wiping the worry off his face, but he managed it eventually, which was all that mattered to Felix. “On second thought, what if I just hide from Ingrid the entire time. Surely I can fit in your luggage.”

“I’m not taking my entire wardrobe, which is the only thing you’d fit in.”

“This is the thanks I get for being such a wonderful brother? Being abandoned at the hour of my greatest need?”

“Don’t worry, you can always avoid the old man by becoming fully nocturnal.”

“I’m certainly considering it.”

_____

The Rhodos Coast was a day’s train ride from Fhirdiad. Aside from Dimitri, Felix, Sylvain, and Ingrid, they were naturally accompanied on the trip by Mr Molinaro and Lady Edelgard, as well as a man Felix had no knowledge of, a Lord Hubert von Vestra. Lord Hubert apparently, was a childhood friend of Edelgard’s, an Adrestian noble like herself, though strangely, like Dedue, he spoke with an unexpected upper class Faerghus accent. It was, however, among his least off-putting traits, of which he had many. He was as tall as Dimitri but he did not wear it well, appearing rather gaunt and frightening; it did not help matters that he was as personable as a dead fish. He was uninterested in speaking cordially to anyone that was not Edelgard; even Dimitri gave him a wide berth despite his familiarity with the man.

They arrived at their destination in the early evening, all of them tired from the long journey and wanting nothing more than to put away their things and eat. Unfortunately, it seemed they had arrived at the most inopportune time.

“Full up? How can you be full up?” Dimitri asked in disbelief.

“My apologies, sir. But the tourist season has just begun, you see. I assure you, the rooms we’ve provided are quite spacious. They’ll certainly be able to accommodate more than one guest.”

“Nevermind, we’ll head elsewhere then.”

“I think you’ll find, sir, that the situation will be much the same in other establishments, if not worse. We can at least give you two rooms with a double bed, while the other has a very spacious bed and a sofa. You’ll not find much better.”

Dimitri sighed. “All right, all right, I suppose we’ll work something out.” He booked the rooms and took the keys, looking quite put out by their bad luck.

Felix followed Dimitri back to where the others waited with their luggage, ignoring his growing panic. Three rooms. Three rooms. That was not enough. Not enough for seven people.

“Naturally, El and Ingrid will take one of the double rooms,” Dimitri said, after explaining the situation. “Which leaves the men with the single and the other double.”

“I’m not sleeping on the floor,” Sylvain said. “I can’t maintain this”—he gestured at his entire figure—“without proper sleep.”

“We’ll toss a coin for it,” Dimitri said reasonably.

“No, no. I’m not leaving this to chance. Why do the girls automatically get the double room? Can’t they just share a bed?”

Ingrid stomped on his foot.

“Ow! I’m _just_ saying! You’re both tiny—er, not as big. Ow! Lady Edelgard, not you too!”

“Lord Felix?” a boyish voice cut in. “Oh, and Lord Dimitri and Lord Sylvain! What a pleasant surprise!”

Felix turned his head and found Ashe standing in the entryway.

“Ashe? This is a surprise!” Dimitri exclaimed. “This is my friend Mr Dedue Molinaro, my cousin Lady Edelgard von Arundel, and… her friend, Lord Hubert von Vestra.”

“Pleased to meet all of you! I’m a friend of Dimitri’s from school, Ashe Ubert.”

“I haven’t had the chance to thank you for the invitation to Lord Lonato’s ball,” said Dimitri. “It was wonderfully hosted.”

“I’ll express your appreciation to Christophe. He was the one that organized it. Did you all just arrive? I’m surprised there were still rooms left. We’ve been here a few days and it’s been unbelievably packed.”

“We were given the last of then,” Dimitri admitted.

“Unfortunately, the men have to split two rooms,” Sylvain said grumpily, “which isn’t a problem as long as I get to sleep on a bed.”

“Oi, you don’t get to demand a bed,” Felix snapped, tired of his whining. “We’re going to toss a coin for it.”

“You wouldn’t understand. You could sleep on a dirt floor and be content.”

“You’re being prissy.”

“Is that supposed to be an insult? So sorry I care about comfort! You know, I’m more than willing to share a bed, as long as I get to be in one!”

“Maybe not so loud, Sylvain,” Dimitri said in a low voice. “People might misunderstand.”

“Fine, that didn’t come off exactly as how I intended it. Obviously, I would prefer to share my bed with one, or both, of the ladies present—don’t hit me at the same time!—but I’m willing to settle for a man—excuse me! Why did _you_ hit me?” His last question was directed at Felix.

“If I may interrupt,” Ashe said. “I have an extra bed in my room, as Christophe left for Gaspard this morning. One of you can room with me.”

“Ashe! You’re an angel!” Sylvain cried.

“Well, there’s still the matter of the single bed,” Dimitri said.

“It’s fine, like I said I’m willing to share.”

“No one here wants to share a bed with you, Sylvain,” Felix said.

“You don’t know that. I’ve been told I’m very handsome.”

“Have you been told you’re very irritating as well?” Hubert asked in a murderous tone.

“On occasion.”

“I’ll just write the options on slips of paper and we’ll each pick one,” Dimitri said, exasperated. “How does that sound to everyone?”

Not great, in Felix’s opinion, but he reluctantly murmured his assent anyway.

When it was his turn to pick, he drew a slip of paper with the words “double room” written out in Dimitri’s messy handwriting. He would have preferred rooming with Ashe, the most inoffensive of the bunch, but as long as his roommate was not Dimitri, he could live with the result.

It was Dimitri.

“Looks like we’re together,” Dimitri said cheerfully, the only one of them that seemed pleased with how things had shaken out. Mr Molinaro was the lucky party to room with the mild-mannered Ashe, which meant the single bed went to Sylvain and Hubert. Felix was not sure which of the three looked more upset: Mr Molinaro, who kept glancing at Dimitri like a parent about to part with their child for the first time; Sylvain, who seemed to be reconsidering his bold proclamation of sharing his bed with anyone; or Hubert, who was muttering something about making sure no one ever found Sylvain’s body.

They parted to deposit their belongings and freshen up before dinner. Felix followed after Dimitri, miserably dragging his luggage up two flights of stairs. If this were a proper establishment there would have been a porter for such things, but the Rhodos Coast was a provincial sort of town, favored less by conventional tourists and more by those making religious pilgrimages to see the monuments sacred to Saint Cichol. It was a happy coincidence to see Ashe there at the same time as themselves, but it was not a surprise; Lord Lonato was known to be quite devoted to the Western Church.

Despite the lack of service, their room was, as promised, sizable with a beautiful attached washroom. Felix might have pulled a Sylvain and had a meltdown from prissiness if the washrooms had been a shared facility; he had enough of them in boarding school, thank you.

He grabbed his things and locked himself in it to freshen up and change, refusing to think about how he would be spending the next few days sharing a room with Dimitri.

It was going to be fine. They would spend most of the day away from the inn and at night they would be sleeping. In separate beds, thankfully. His luck had held out that much.

When he left the washroom he dropped his things.

Dimitri, Dimitri, he was, he was—

Changing. Shamelessly. In the broad daylight. Dimitri was. He was shirtless. He was standing there shirtless!

Yes, his back was to Felix but it did not make things better. He had an obscene back. All lean and fit, muscles flexing as he reached for a shirt. What did he need muscles for?

Once Felix had calmed down somewhat, he noticed a nasty set of scars running down Dimitri’s back. They were not fresh wounds but looked as if they had been healed over for years.

“Where do you get those scars?” Felix asked, starling Dimitri. “You look like you were attacked by some sort of animal.”

“Ah—Felix! You surprised me.” He turned around; his shirt was unbuttoned. Felix felt like he was on the verge of madness when he saw the blond hair growing on Dimitri’s chest. He did not remember Dimitri having so much hair there before. “Which scars? I’m afraid I’ve gathered many over the years.”

 _How?_ Felix wanted to scream. He did not. “The long ones on your back.”

Dimitri cruelly buttoned up his shirt. “Ah, those ones. It was an animal, as you guessed. A wolf.”

“Quite a large wolf by the looks of it.”

“Yes, quite. Which waistcoat should I wear?”

The question overwhelmed Felix for a good moment as he imagined Dimitri in them. “Why are you asking me? Do I look like I care about such things?”

“Well, you always look rather fetching, do you not? Certainly, you have a better set of eyes than me.”

“If that’s supposed to be funny, it isn’t.”

“Come now, what’s the point of losing an eye if you can’t make a joke about it.”

Felix caved and pointed at a waistcoat at random. Dimitri picked it up to wear and Felix instantly resented it for bringing out the blue of his remaining eye too well.

“I changed my mind, wear the other one.” The other waistcoat was in a safe shade of grey. There were no greys in Dimitri’s eye to worry about and it was a spectacularly bland color to boot. No one looked dashing in grey, it was impossible.

Dimitri, as usual, was the exception to the rule. Felix had not considered the fit, foolishly discounting the absurd trimness of Dimitri’s waist as a source of distraction more potent than even the blue of his eye. By the time Felix realized this, it was too late; Dimitri was already tying his cravat.

Dimitri’s trim waist put Felix in right foul mood. He glared at everyone and everything and stabbed at his food with unnecessary vehemence.

“I don’t know why you’re so pissy,” Sylvain muttered. “You’re not the one rooming with a serial murderer.”

Felix did not agree; he felt as if he had died many times because of Dimitri.

“What if we switched rooms?” Sylvain asked casually.

“No,” Felix replied immediately.

“What brings you all to the Rhodos Coast?” Ashe asked, utterly oblivious to the tension at the table.

“Sightseeing,” Dimitri said just as Edelgard and Hubert answered with, “A pilgrimage.”

“Ah?” Ashe looked confused.

“That is,” Dimitri said nervously, “El and Hubert are here on a pilgrimage. I decided to accompany them to sightsee and invited a few others to join me. As you know, I’m not a very religious man.”

“I do remember you used to skip out on chapel with Felix and Sylvain. So Lady Edelgard and Lord Hubert, you keep the faith strongly then?”

“Oh yes,” Hubert said. “I devote myself fully to my lady.”

“What a load of shit,” Sylvain muttered too low for anyone but Felix to hear.

“I’ve never heard anyone call the goddess ‘my lady’ before. You must be quite devoted indeed!”

Hubert smiled; it had all the warmth and assurance of a snowstorm.

“My father was quite connected to the church,” Edelgard said. “It had a large influence on my life while I was growing up.”

“I see! I did not consider myself particularly religious until I joined Lord Lonato’s household.”

“Joined?” Mr Molinaro asked, somehow unaware of Ashe’s origins. Even if Dimitri had not told him anything, it was obvious from the way Ashe spoke that he was an outsider; he had an accent of the lower classes. Even Sylvain, who had dropped his heavy northern accent for a less obtrusive Fhirdiad one, had not gone so far as to take on the true city accent of the people.

“My parents died when I was very young; Lord Lonato is actually my adopted father. I was about ten when he caught me stealing from him. He could’ve had me punished, but instead he chose to adopt me and my younger siblings.”

“My apologies. I did not mean to bring up anything uncomfortable.”

“Not at all. I dare say most people are aware of my origins. I’m not trying to hide it. I know it means people make their assumptions about me, but hiding it means hiding Lord Lonato’s kindness, and I don’t think that’s the right thing to do. People should know he’s a good man.”

“I’m certain he must be proud to have a son such as yourself,” Mr Molinaro said, sincerity pouring from him.

“Where is this Lord Lonato?” Hubert asked, his tone so saccharine it felt sarcastic. “I would love to meet such a man.”

“Oh, he’s staying at the inn as well but he’s been calling on associates he has in the area. I haven’t seen much of him. I spent most of the time with Christophe until he left this morning.”

“Most fortuitous timing,” Hubert said, somehow making it sound like a threat. Ashe did not appear to notice.

“Indeed! If you need any help getting around, I’m practically a resident at this point with how many times I’ve been here.”

“You should join us then, Ashe,” Dimitri suggested. “If it’s not any trouble.”

“Not at all! It would be my pleasure.”

_____

Dinner ended too soon.

After making plans for the morning that would have made Glenn wept had he been there, they went their separate ways to retire for the night.

Felix took a long bath and considered the merits of sleeping in the tub. It was hard and uncomfortable, but it was in a different room from Dimitri, so that was a strong point in its favor. The more barriers between them, the better.

The water was cold by the time he willed himself to leave the bath. Dimitri was still awake, having patiently waited to use the washroom after him. Felix had been hoping otherwise, for the sake of his nerves. An awake Dimitri was an unpredictable Dimitri and Felix could not deal with such things at the present moment.

(He could not deal with them at any moment.)

At least, once Dimitri disappeared behind the washroom door Felix was alone again. He crawled into bed, determined to use his time wisely and fall asleep immediately, or at least before Dimitri finished his bath.

It was a complete failure. The walls of the inn were too thin. He could hear everything, and it was terrible. Every splash of water had him flinching as he wrestled with his mind to stop imaging the scene that went along with it.

Finally, mercifully, Dimitri was done taunting him with the sounds of his bath. Felix shifted onto his side to look at him, hoping to see him dressed in an unflattering nightshirt that might put an end to his washroom fantasies.

Well, it certainly ended _those_ fantasies.

Unfortunately, he was now being hit with new ones as Dimitri was not merciful—he was _sadistic_. Far from being unflattering, his nightshirt was wretchedly short, coming up to nearly his knees, making him look like Felix’s idea of a hussy. He walked around the room tidying his things, shamelessly flashing his hairy legs.

Not a care! Not a care! He acted as if Felix was not there! It was insulting. Where was his decorum? Did he think Felix enjoyed seeing his bare, muscular legs? He did not! It was a terrible, offensive sight. The awfulness of it kept Felix’s eyes wide open, staring. He was relieved when Dimitri finally went to bed and hid his ugly, misshapen legs under the blankets.

“Goodnight, Felix,” Dimitri said obliviously. He reached over to turn off the oil lamp on the nightstand between their beds.

Felix frowned, for Dimitri was still wearing his eyepatch. “Are you going to sleep with that thing on?”

“What thing?”

Felix gestured to Dimitri’s eye.

“Oh, well. It’s quite gruesome underneath. I do not wish to alarm you.”

“Yes, I did figure you weren’t wearing it for fashion. Just take it off, you fool.”

Dimitri lifted his hands to untie it and then stopped. “Actually, would you remove it for me?”

“What? I’m not doing that.”

“Well, I shan’t take it off otherwise,” he said stubbornly.

Felix knew he would not change his mind. His stubbornness was unmatched.

“You—you—you boar! You haven’t changed at all.”

“You haven’t called me that in a long time.” He sounded wistful about it as if the nickname was _sweet_ instead of a childish insult Felix had come up with almost a decade ago to describe Dimitri’s chronic obstinance.

“I only say it when you deserve it.”

Felix made a great show of getting out of bed, emphasizing the difficulty and inconvenience, wanting Dimitri to know exactly how foolish his request was. His little display ended when he stood above Dimitri, his hands hovering around his head.

Dimitri looked up at him from where he sat. The oil lamp still burned, casting him in a soft glow.

Carefully, patiently, Felix untied the patch, his hands shaking for no discernible reason. The knot was well done; it would have been easier if Dimitri faced away from him so he could actually _see_ what he was doing. But he was not faced away, and Felix did not ask it of him.

“There,” Felix said, setting the patch on the nightstand.

“It’s frightening, is it not?” Dimitri asked quietly.

“No more than the rest of your face.”

Dimitri laughed, his tension melting.

In truth, it did frighten Felix, but not for the reasons Dimitri might assume.

“How did it happen? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Ah, well, it wasn’t all sightseeing these past five years. Someone who doesn’t like me very much did this.”

“Who?” Felix asked, offended. How could someone not like Dimitri?

“I’d rather not speak of it. It brings back unpleasant memories.” He grabbed Felix’s wrist as if trying to keep him there. He need not have bothered, as Felix had no intentions of going anywhere. “Felix, when we parted—I said some things I did not mean.”

“We’ve already gone through this. I accept whatever overly saccharine apology you’re trying to make. There. Are you finished?”

“You said you do not feel that way anymore. Is that really true?”

Felix froze. He reached for the lie he had said at the club, but it refused to leave his tongue.

Six years ago they had entered their final year of boarding school. Their friendship, once the easiest relationship of Felix’s life, had become fraught.

Dimitri spent the break between the school year in Adrestia with Lady Anselma and Edelgard. When he returned, he was not himself; he smiled and laughed with the other boys, but Felix was not fooled by his mask; he was deeply melancholic and refused to acknowledge it when Felix asked. Things might have improved, but Felix was young and foolish and he did not like seeing Dimitri _pretend_ with; he became angry, vicious, and lashed out when he should have comforted.

In the past, another of their friends might have acted as a peacemaker but at that point, Sylvain was already at university, while Ingrid was at finishing school. Felix had no one to tell him to be kind, to think before he spoke.

The only other time they had fought in such a way was after the Duscur trip. Dimitri had returned from it moody and irritable and had avoided Felix until the winter when Sylvain had enough of their antics and forced them to make up.

But there was no Sylvain to knock sense into them this time. Felix stewed in his anger, became a frequent visitor to the headmaster’s office thanks to his poor decisions, and otherwise ran amok.

Though it did not help, that was not what had ruined their friendship.

Felix did not want to fight Dimitri. As graduation neared, he felt a deep fear that if he did not do _something_ , that was to be the end of them. Dimitri was going to university, and Felix, who had tanked his entire education in one year, was going home to Fraldarius.

It could not end that way. Felix would not let it.

He did the only thing he could think of. Foolish and desperate, Felix had confessed his dearest secret to Dimitri in hopes it would be enough.

It was not.

Dimitri had stared at him in shock. Felix, eighteen and an idiot, thought his words were unclear and had stood on the tips of his toes to kiss Dimitri’s lips.

For one brilliant, shining moment, Dimitri had kissed him back. Felix felt as if his heart might burst from happiness.

Then Dimitri had pushed him away and told him, among other things, he would never see Felix in such a way and that he did not want to speak to Felix ever again.

It had destroyed Felix’s fragile heart. Hurt him in ways he did not know were possible. He had shared a secret he was afraid to tell anyone and it had destroyed everything that mattered. For all Dimitri had drifted away from him, for all they had fought, he was still Felix’s best friend. But no more.

Felix had not realized that loving Dimitri would do more damage to their friendship than fighting him.

“Felix? Was it true?”

“I told you my answer already,” Felix said slowly.

Dimitri let go of his wrist. “I see.”

Felix made his way back to his bed, praying to the goddess Dimitri did notice the way his legs shook.

“Goodnight, Felix,” Dimitri said.

The room went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one of my favorite parts of this fic is secretly laughing at felix because he has no idea what’s happening


	3. great tree moon (part ii)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this isn't a persuasion AU but that was the austen most in my head while writing this, the lyme regis bits especially........ ofc in the """real""" regency period men & women weren't allowed to """bathe""" together (these ppl didn't even properly swim) but i decided in fe3h's world things wouldn't be _as_ rigid (possibly what happens when your religion is centered around a goddess and has a female pope).

When Felix and Dimitri came downstairs for breakfast, Ingrid and Edelgard were chatting away about pegasi.

“I wish I could have a pegasus but I’ve always lived in a city,” Edelgard lamented. “They’re truly magnificent creatures. I could never confine one to a small plot of land.”

“I wish more people felt that way. It breaks my heart to see pegasi treated like horses. They’re meant to fly. If you won’t allow them to, don’t get one. But people think they’re more fashionable than horses and buy them out of vanity.”

“Truly disgraceful.”

“I see you’ve gotten Ingrid onto her favorite topic of conversation,” Sylvain playfully said as he sat down. “Pegasi rights.”

“Don’t be an ass,” Ingrid said.

“I’m not passing any judgment. You forget I’m fond of pegasi as well as horses. Just because I gifted you—“ He abruptly cut off and switched subjects. “I’m glad this place serves decent food at least.”

“Gifted me what? Sylvain?”

“A lifetime of friendship.”

“ _Sylvain._ What did you do?”

“It’s not important.”

Not even Ashe would believe such a transparent lie. Felix frowned; he had no idea why Sylvain was acting so strange.

“Clearly it is or you wouldn’t have brought it up.”

Sylvain’s expression turned serious. “Just drop it, Ingrid. It really doesn’t matter.”

“If you won’t tell me, I’m leaving. Do you understand? I’m getting on a train and going back to Fhirdiad.”

“Why do you have to be so stubborn? Fine, but remember _you’re_ the one who insisted on knowing. It was Rhiannon.”

Felix stared at Sylvain in shock. Rhiannon was a horse—Ingrid’s _favorite_ horse. Two years prior, her beloved childhood horse Calliope had passed. She had been inconsolable in her grief until Glenn had gifted her Rhiannon.

“Rhiannon? But Glenn—“

“Glenn? You think _Glenn_ had any idea of what to do for you? Rhiannon was my idea— _my gift_ —but it would have been inappropriate coming from me. I had to ask Glenn to give her to you in my stead.”

_Not every secret is mine to tell._ Was this what Glenn had spoken of? That the gift Ingrid had cherished had not come from him, but Sylvain? Ingrid’s joy at receiving the mare, the way she had smiled for the first time in weeks, the way she had thanked Glenn with all her heart—all of it was born from a lie.

“Why—why didn’t you say something? All that time I kept thanking Glenn—you made a fool of me!”

Sylvain pulled at his hair. “This is why! I knew you would take it the wrong way!”

Felix winced.

Ingrid stood up, her chair scraping on the floor; she stared at Sylvain in contempt and walked off.

“Do you have to be such a prat,” Felix said when Ingrid was out of sight.

“Yes, I do. That’s the only thing I’m good at, isn’t it?”

“Sylvain,” Dimitri said, “that isn’t true.”

“Shouldn’t someone go after her?” Edelgard asked.

Felix sighed. “I’ll go.” He did not trust a single one of them not to make things worst, not even Dimitri.

He found Ingrid sitting outside on a bench in the inn’s garden. She did not look angry anymore. It was not reassuring.

“You can’t possibly be planning to skip breakfast. If _I’m_ hungry you must be positively famished.”

“Did you know?” Ingrid asked, her eyes blazing when she looked up at him.

Felix shook his head. “No one tells me anything.”

“That makes two of us then. What was he thinking? He could have still told me. We could have pretended Glenn purchased Rhiannon.”

Felix raised an eyebrow.

“Fine, that would have been ridiculous. It’s just incredibly vexing to me that I thought knew someone but I really didn’t. Do you know what I once said to Sylvain? That even though my engagement fell through, at least I still had Rhiannon. I’m such a fool.”

“True. You are a fool.” Ingrid glared at him. “But Glenn and Sylvain are idiots, which is much worse.”

Ingrid smiled faintly. A moment later her stomach growled.

“What did I say?” Felix said smugly.

“Glenn and Sylvain might be idiots, but neither of them is as insufferable as you.” She stood, looking a bit more like herself.

“Enough of that, let’s go,” he said.

Ashe, Mr Molinaro, and Lord Hubert had come down for breakfast by the time they returned. Sylvain was sullen, but with a few words from Ingrid he brightened. She was still cross with him for keeping such a huge secret, but she understood his initial reasoning. But he was never to do such a thing again: she did not care what scandals it might cause. She said, very plainly, that her prospects were already quite hopeless so there was no point in worrying over such things. Sylvain frowned at this but did not say anything, which considering his tendency to put his foot in his mouth when it came to Ingrid, was likely for the best.

After breakfast, it was decided that they would take a walk around town, a tour of the main streets courtesy of Ashe. He was not lying when he said he was familiar with the area; he had something to say about nearly everything they passed, but the only person who continuously responded to him was Mr Molinaro. They appeared to have become friends literally overnight. Felix did not know Mr Molinaro well enough to say if such a thing was unexpected, but in Ashe’s case it was somewhat typical of him to get along with more… difficult people; Felix counting among those Ashe had charmed against their will. It was not that surprising then, that Mr Molinaro had fallen victim to Ashe as well.

A great many of the shops they passed on their tour had a notable religious bent. Figurines of the saints, books of prayer, pendants in the shape of sacred weapons: there was more religious iconography to be found in one tiny shop than in all of Fhirdiad’s Great Cathedral. Saint Cichol was the most frequent figure depicted among all the goods, with his daughter Saint Cethleann following distantly behind. There were rows of candle jars with his face painted onto the glass (he was passably handsome in the depictions), shelves full of books he was featured in (including some unfortunate erotica), and, of course, his Crest emblazoned on every object imaginable from the mundane (a set of coasters) to the disturbing (a toilet lid).

It was gaudy and tacky and if Felix had been a religious man, he would say it was outright blasphemous.

“I can’t believe this place.” Felix lifted up a cravat patterned with Saint Cichol’s Crest.

“It’s not what I expected,” Dimitri admitted. “I was hoping to purchase a gift for father and stepmother but the selections are a little…”

“Hideous? Embarrassing? Offensive to anyone with good taste?”

“Yes, exactly. Though it looks like not everyone agrees.”

Felix followed his line of sight and saw Sylvain purchasing a figurine of Saint Cichol presumably amidst battle, his clothing damaged and his sizeable bust bursting out of his shirt.

“I guess we should be thankful the figurines of Saint Cethleann aren’t so provocative,” Felix said.

“Indeed. I wonder if Stepmother would appreciate a gift related to Saint Cethleann. Jewelry perhaps, or a handkerchief. Something that isn’t too gaudy.”

“I’ll help you look for something. In return, if you see anything for Glenn or my old man, let me know.”

They searched through several shops, making their way through the small downtown area of the Rhodos Coast. For their fathers, they both settled on a set of four cigars (one for each Saint) that did not feel like a particularly appropriate item to sport religious iconography but at least it was not toilet seat levels of blasphemy. For Glenn, Felix purchased a marked-down calendar, half because of the price and half because the art of Saint Cichol inside it was salacious enough that if their old man ever saw it he would perish on the spot. He hoped Glenn would hang it on his bedroom door.

Lady Anselma was much more difficult to find a gift for. Dimitri had put it into his mind that it had to be jewelry: something beautiful but not too loud, as Lady Anselma preferred the subtle; her favorite colors were grey and brown.

“Perhaps something from there?” Felix suggested, pointing at a section of jewelry made with sea glass. As far as Felix could tell, there were no religious symbols hidden on anything, which was a plus in his eyes.

“Oh,” Dimitri said, “these are very nice.”

He found a necklace that was subtle enough for Lady Anselma to wear, but it seemed he was not done shopping. He picked up a leather bracelet embedded with blue and turquoise sea glass, turning it over in his hands.

“This would suit you,” Dimitri said.

“What?”

“Would you wear it if I purchased it for you?”

Felix had never worn any jewelry in his life. He nodded anyway.

Dimitri looked pleased. He made his purchases and tucked away Lady Anselma’s gift. Felix’s gift he took out.

“For you,” he said, holding the bracelet in his hand for Felix to take.

Felix pushed up his sleeve and said, “I shan’t wear it unless you put it on me.”

Dimitri’s eye widened. For a moment Felix thought he would refuse. “I suppose that’s fair.”

As Dimitri tied the leather cord, his fingers brushed Felix’s bare skin; Felix flinched and nearly yanked his arm away. Dimitri noticed—how could he not? He paused and Felix felt his heart thud in his ear.

Just when he felt could not take it anymore, Dimitri brushed the underside of Felix’s wrist purposefully.

"You have very delicate wrists,” Dimitri announced as if that was a thing one man said to another.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Dimitri finished tying the bracelet. Felix snatched his hand back and rolled down his sleeve, covering the bracelet and rendering it pointless to wear. The only ones that knew it was there were Dimitri and Felix.

“Ah, I don’t mean delicate in power but in construction.”

“That makes even less sense.”

Dimitri smiled. “Is that so? You’ll just have to take my word for it.”

Felix scowled and stomped off.

They had seafood for lunch at an establishment of Ashe’s recommendation. The food was to Felix’s liking, a surprise as he had quite strong opinions on seafood from living in Fraldarius. Dimitri noticed and teased him for it, much to the amusement of the rest of their party. It seemed he was not to escape Dimitri’s teasing anytime soon.

It was early yet in the day; when they finished eating they came to a consensus to spend the afternoon at the oceanfront. After a quick stop at the inn, Ashe led them to a moderately busy beach at the end of the road. It was clear despite the area’s appeal to the pious, the pious did not spend their entire trips gawking at religious monuments: they also swam and basked in the sunshine.

As Felix changed in a beach hut he stared at the bracelet on his wrist, considering if he should take it off. It had been well hidden underneath his clothes but the sleeves of his bathing suit did not reach past his elbows. He did not want anyone to see it. He also, conversely, wanted everyone to see it.

He decided to keep it on, telling himself it would be rude to Dimitri if he removed it.

When he exited he was hit by the most horrifying sight his eyes had ever witnessed: Hubert, in a black bathing suit, his pale forearms and calves nearly blinding Felix in the sunlight. There was not a single person that belonged less on a beach than Lord Hubert von Vestra. That being said, perhaps if he had bothered to smile the ensemble would not be so disturbing but his expression was one of great contempt. He looked as if wanted to kill everyone present; Felix suspected it was only Edelgard emerging from a beach hut in a dark red bathing dress that prevented him from doing so.

“Hubert, would it kill you to look like you want to be here?” Edelgard asked.

“I don’t know what my lady means. I can barely contain my joy.” He laughed threateningly.

“That’s better,” Edeglard said delusionally.

Like Edelgard, Sylvain’s bathing suit was red. Unlike Edelgard, it was a horrible, bright shade of red that clashed with his hair and assaulted the eye. Felix could not stand to look at him, lest he suffer permanent eye damage. He was worse to look at than Hubert because at least if he did not look at Hubert’s too pale skin, the black fabric of his suit did not hurt his eye.

He felt a great sense of relief when Mr Molinaro appeared wearing a sensible, dark blue suit. Ashe followed him soon after, wearing a striped blue and white one that while bright, felt soothing to look at in comparison to Sylvain and Hubert. He could always count on Ashe to pick up his spirits.

Ingrid appeared next; her bathing dress was beautiful if a tad too short, hanging far above her ankles. He suspected it was one of her sister’s as the flowery pattern was not to her tastes. Much of her clothing was secondhand; the Galateas had name and prestige, but they lacked in money. Certainly, they were not poor but buying a bathing dress for Ingrid she would only wear once was the type of thing they would avoid if they could.

Felix anxiously spun the bracelet around his wrist as he waited for Dimitri to appear. How was he still changing? Surely this was excessive—even the ladies had finished before him. Perhaps he had already gone into the water and drowned.

“What is she wearing?” Sylvain muttered at Felix’s side.

“Who?” Felix asked.

“Ingrid! That dress, what is she thinking? It’s nearly at her knees.”

“I don’t think anyone is going to pass out from seeing Ingrid’s calves,” Felix said, ignoring his own mishap with Dimitri’s calves the night before; that was different; Dimitri had an inherent indecency to him and should cover himself at all times for the good of society. That was why Felix was anxiously waiting for him to appear and see what havoc his bathing suit would wreak.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Sylvain said dismissively.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sylvain glanced at the bracelet on Felix’s wrist. “Did you buy that for yourself?”

“That’s none of your concern.” Felix hid his arm behind his back.

“What are you two bickering about now?” Ingrid asked as she reached them.

“Nothing.”

“Sylvain takes issue with your bathing dress.” Sylvain’s comments had left him shaken; he wanted to lash out.

“Why, what’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing!” Sylvain glared at Felix. “It’s just—well the pattern isn’t very flattering, is it? All those flowers.”

There was that foot in the mouth disease of his; Felix could always count on it.

“Not flattering? Do I exist solely to look pleasing for you? And you’re one to talk! With that getup I could spot you from the inn!”

“What’s wrong with that? Perhaps I want to look eye-catching!”

“Eye-catching to whom, a bull?”

“Sylvain,” came Dimitri’s voice, “you’re very brightly dressed.”

Felix looked in Dimitri’s direction and promptly felt like he was coming down with a heatstroke.

Dimitri’s suit was blue because of course it was; he always wore blue when he was trying to spite Felix. The sleeves reached his elbows while the trunk was cut above his knee; it was perfectly modest for a man, perfectly modest for anyone, yet on Dimitri it was obscene, immoral, lascivious. How dare he wear such a thing? Felix flushed with anger as he took in the way it clung to his chest; his very large, very vulgar chest.

“Felix, is something the matter?” Dimitri asked innocently.

Was something the matter? Yes, something was the matter! The fit of his bathing suit was borderline pornographic! How could he think it was acceptable to strut about in such a thing?

Rather than answer such an inane question, Felix grunted and took off to the water.

“Felix!”

The ocean was warmer here than in Fraldarius, but not overly so. He had been once to Brigid in early childhood and remembered crying upon walking into the warm water. He had not been expecting it and found it impossibly strange. Glenn had laughed at him, but Dimitri played games with him until he had forgotten to be upset.

“Felix, there you are,” Dimitri had caught up to him with those stupidly long legs of his. “Are you planning on swimming?”

“Maybe,” Felix said, wading out further into the ocean.

“It’s been many years since I last swam. Not since…” He trailed off. The water reached his waist, which for Felix meant it reached his chest.

“Not since when?”

“The last summer break I spent in Fraldarius.”

A small wave battered them.

“That was almost seven years ago. Haven’t you been traveling?”

“Not for leisure.”

“What then? Are you ever going to tell me what you’ve been doing for the past five years?”

“I was looking for someone.”

Felix’s chest seized. He took a step back. A wave roared over him; he slipped and fell under the water.

“Felix!” Dimitri seized his wrist and pulled him up.

Felix coughed and scrunched his face up in disgust at the taste of seawater in his mouth.

“I can stand on my own, you know,” Felix said, snapping his hand away. “Did you find the person you’re looking for?”

“I did.”

“Great. That’s just great.” Felix felt as if he might be sick from all the seawater he swallowed.

“Sarcasm was always more of Glenn’s strong suit.”

Felix stared at him with narrowed eyes. “Do you expect me to jump in happiness to hear you’ve found someone? Excuse me if I’m not interested in hearing about your romantic escapades. I’ll congratulate you when the engagement is announced, but don’t expect any more from me than that.”

Dimitri was still wearing that eyepatch of his, even in the ocean. Felix, having been distracted by his bathing suit and then resolutely avoiding eye contact with him, had not noticed it until now.

“Are you going to swim with that thing on? That can’t be sanitary.”

“Does the thought of me being with someone else upset you?”

What vicious words he flung! It was no better than if he had taken a knife and plunged it straight into Felix’s heart!

But he was not done; he took the knife and twisted it. “I thought you did not care for me in that way anymore.”

Clearly, it not enough to make Felix bleed; he wanted to make sure Felix _hurt_.

“Shut up,” Felix snapped.

“That is what you told me, is it not? Did you lie?”

“I said shut up, _boar_.”

“You accuse me of being stubborn as a boar, but are you not the same?”

“Does it please you to torment me? To make a mockery of my situation? To remind me time and time again that my feelings are unwanted as if _I didn’t already know that?_ ”

“Do you really think so poorly of me?”

“I don’t even know you anymore, Dimitri. As much as I’d like to pretend I do. You were already far away from me even before you left.”

“The person I was looking for, Felix, is the one who took my eye.”

“What?”

“I assure you, there is no love between us. Rather the opposite. But as I’ve told you before, I do not wish to speak of such things. More importantly, have you considered you might be wrong in your estimation? Why are you so certain your feelings are unwanted?”

“Because you said as much yourself!”

“And as I keep trying to tell you, there are things I regret about our parting and that is one of them!”

Before Felix could answer, a loud cough resounded above the crash of the waves, interrupting them.

It was Mr Molinaro. How long he had been standing there Felix did not know, but there was still a fair distance between him and the others, though they were catching up.

“Dedue,” Dimitri said, flustered.

“Edelgard and Hubert left to see Saint Cichol’s monument.”

“Of course.”

“They will be back later.”

“I would hope so.”

Even with waves crashing against him, Mr Molinaro did not move a single step. He was more rooted to the ground than a tree, as at least their branches might sway in the wind.

“We are very far from the shore. I do not wish to see you get caught up in a current. Perhaps we should rejoin the others.”

Mr Molinaro did not spare a glance toward Felix. He looked only at Dimitri, and Felix realized then that Mr Molinaro did not approve of him. He felt a surge of anger at the thought. Mr Molinaro did not even know him. They had met but a few times. Dimitri must have told him about Felix. About Felix’s pathetic schoolboy confession. It would explain why he did not look the slightest bit surprised by what he had overheard.

“I don’t feel like swimming after all,” Felix said as he began to walk back to shore.

“Felix—“

“Are you coming?” Felix asked, not looking behind him.

“Ah—yes. I think I will pass on a swim for today as well.”

Mr Molinaro simply trailed after Dimitri like a shadow.

_____

The rest of the day passed by in agonizing slowness. Felix’s mind kept replaying Dimitri’s last words before their interruption: he regretted insinuating Felix’s feelings were unwanted. What did that mean? Was it because he felt guilty about how the words had affected Felix, strangling his spirit slowly for five years? Or (and this was a dangerous thought and one Felix tried not to entertain) was it because they were untrue? Had he lied?

Felix would ask why, but there were a dozen reasons he could think of without having to ask. Some of them had to do with Felix; it was not as if his teenage self had been the easiest to handle. He had been emotionally volatile, keenly aware of their coming separation as they graduated from secondary school. The missing element of Sylvain those final two years had only exacerbated the situation as he had lost a friend to go to when his heart was being troubled by Dimitri. It was not the kind of thing he could write about in letters either, as he had reason to believe all of the student’s outgoing mail was read through.

Other reasons Dimitri might lie were not Felix’s fault directly, but the result of his sex. Dimitri, the last direct descendant of his family’s line had looked to be the presumptive heir of the Grand Duchy even then. Dimitri would not have expected the requirement of marriage to secure his inheritance, but it went without saying not to court scandal and bedding Felix certainly fell under such a category. Dimitri’s expectations as the sole son of his family were entirely different than Felix’s. Second sons were expendable; they had less safety but exchanged it for more freedom.

There was a certain leeway afforded to men like Felix whose desires did not fit the expected mold, especially when they were not their family’s heir. The clergy was a respectable path if he wanted to be permitted to openly love whom he pleased while retaining his status as a gentleman. He could also be discreet in his personal affairs and either not marry or find a woman who would not be averse to such an arrangement.

Or… he could not rely on his family’s money and do as he wished, regardless of the consequences. It might ruin his good standing with the highest echelons of society, but outside the demanding expectations of Faerghus’s elite there were few who would care about Felix’s personal affairs. That option had the most appeal to Felix as he had no intention of joining the church nor marrying someone to please his father, but in five years he had done nothing to make it a reality. He had not secured a profession, nor gone to school, and in the end was as dependent on his family as ever. Worse, he had caught his father’s attention after Glenn had failed to fulfill his duty as heir and marry Ingrid. One son bucking tradition was about as much as Duke Rodrigue Fraldarius could handle, and even that he was handling poorly.

Despite all this, Felix knew deep down the true reason he had idled and stalled was because he did not want to be with just any man, he wanted to be with _Dimitri_. It was a subtle but important distinction. He might find other men charming and pleasing to the eye, but they were not _Dimitri_ and did not inspire any efforts for him to seek independence nor offer any recourse for his broken heart.

Mr Molinaro was unhappy to part from Dimitri for the night, finding several excuses to keep Dimitri from heading to bed. Felix grew tired of it, and left without Dimitri, taking a bath to pass the time. He found himself sitting in cold water for the second night in the row by the time he heard the click of the door opening, announcing Dimitri had escaped his minder at last.

“It’ll be all right, my friend,” he heard Dimitri murmur softly through the thin walls of the inn. “You worry too much.”

A low voice answered him. Mr Molinaro, Felix presumed, though he could not make out his words.

“Yes, I know. I know. But it’s different this time. I’m no longer so young and foolish.”

Another reply, this time shorter.

“If you say so. Good night, Dedue.”

The door clicked shut. Felix dressed in a daze before entering the main room.

“Dimitri.” He had forgotten to towel himself dry. His long hair dripped onto the carpet; his nightshirt clung to his skin.

Dimitri looked at him and froze. He had already taken off his eyepatch and the dark pit left behind opened and widened in time with his working eye.

“Did they not change the towels?” Dimitri asked.

“I forgot.”

“Forgot what?”

“To use them.”

“I see.” A stretch of silence, then, “That must be uncomfortable.”

“Oh, sod off.”

“You can have one of my shirts. I daresay they will fit well enough as a nightshirt for you.”

“They will not!”

“Fine then, go to bed wet.”

Felix fought the urge to scream. Why was it that talking to Dimitri provoked him so? The man was exasperating. “Fine, give it here.”

Dimitri handed him a white shit without a word and went into the washroom, closing the door behind him with a hard click.

Infuriatingly, the shirt did work as a nightshirt on Felix. It was certainly not as modest as Felix’s properly sized one, but it was not much worse than the atrocity Dimitri wore.

Frankly, Felix was getting sick of being reminded of Dimitri’s height. The unfairness of it! There was a brief time, when they were six or seven, when Felix had been the taller one. What had happened to that?

Felix dried his hair with Dimitri’s jacket in a fit of anger (the oaf had forgotten he still needed a towel so it was rightly deserved) and was contemplating his next form of retaliation when the washroom door opened.

Dimitri tumbled out in his too-short nightshirt. Though Felix was prepared for the scandalous sight of it this time, he still flinched and had to force himself to look elsewhere. Dimitri, however, did not return the politeness and openly stared at Felix’s uncovered legs.

A good minute passed, or perhaps an hour. It was difficult to feel connected to the concept of time when Dimitri staring at him like _he_ was the one that was at fault for the situation. He was not; he had a perfectly sensible nightshirt that covered everything that needed to be covered; it was Dimitri that insisted he must wear something dry.

At last Dimitri asked, “What are you doing with my jacket?”

“I was in need of a towel.’

Dimitri stared at Felix’s jacket hanging off a chair perfectly dry and sighed. “You are angry at me.”

“I am not.”

“You are. Not about the towel.” He mirrored Felix and sat on his bed. They stared at each other, both of them too stubborn for their own good.

“I would like to know what you meant by your words earlier today.”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

Felix clenched his jaw. “I wouldn’t be asking if it was.”

“I could not return your affections, Felix. Not then. I had too much on my mind, too many burdens I dared not saddle you with. I had hoped with my rejection, you might fall for someone else. But that doesn’t mean—“ He took a deep breath. “That doesn’t mean I didn’t care for you.”

“And now?”

“You told me quite plainly you didn’t feel that way about me anymore. Twice, as I agonizingly recall.”

“That was a lie.”

Dimitri stiffened, somehow shocked by Felix’s confession. Felix could not imagine why: he felt as if his every action around Dimitri gave away his affections.

“Felix, I—“

In a blink, Felix crossed the space between their beds and kissed Dimitri. It was barely deserving of the name, lasting not more than the flap of a hummingbird’s wings. He was not eighteen anymore, charging bravely ahead; he was afraid. He had so much to lose if he misstepped.

He jumped out of reach; he had kissed Dimitri so fast his mouth was frozen midword.

“My feelings for you haven’t changed, Dimitri. But after being without your friendship for five years, I know I’d rather have it than not. Do you understand? I don’t want a repeat of the past. You must tell me now if you’re having second thoughts. I won’t begrudge you for it. I just don’t want to lose you again because I want something more than you’re willing to give.”

“You have me, Felix. You will always have me.”

Felix returned to him.

He settled on Dimitri’s thighs, sitting on them in such a way that it was he who had to bend down to reach his lips. He was less afraid this time when they kissed. His fears further diminished when Dimitri’s hand slipped under his shirt and caressed his bare skin.

Every touch, every kiss from Dimitri relieved the deep-seated ache that had settled in his heart after their separation. The past did not matter when Dimitri was panting into his mouth; he had no room for fear when Dimitri’s large hands were spread across his back.

Dimitri pulled him closer until they were falling onto the soft mattress.

“Dimitri.” Dimitri’s golden hair splayed around his pillow like a halo. He looked more divine than anything else Felix had seen on the trip.

Unfortunately, Felix’s vantage was taken from him. Dimitri flipped them over, pushing Felix onto his back.

Ah, but the view like this was lovely too. Dimitri’s shirt was falling open. He pawed at it until Dimitri caught his wrists and held them above his head.

“That’s unfair,” Felix said; he could not compete against Dimitri’s Blaiddyd blessed strength.

Dimitri smirked.

He pressed down on Felix, surrounding him, trapping him; Felix found he rather liked it.

“Why should I be fair?” he asked, pushing up Felix’s shirt.

Felix shivered as the fabric bunched at his neck, leaving the rest of him exposed.

Dimitri took his time looking at him, his single eye turned dark, before he pinched a pert nipple, making Felix gasp. Felix had never touched his chest before, not like this at least, he had not imagined how the sensation would travel to his groin. Dimitri played with his chest, flicking and pinching his buds, squeezing them between his fingers. Felix did not understand why it felt so _good_. Why instead of hurting from the abuse, he was being assaulted with shocks of pleasure.

Felix’s cock strained against his stomach, weeping for attention. “Please, touch me.”

When Dimitri did, he let out a loud moan, unbidden.

“Shhh.” Dimitri kissed him, swallowing the sound of another moan. “As much as I wish to hear you, you will have to be quiet. The walls here are too thin.”

Felix nodded. He would try.

Dimitri must not have believed him, because a moment later he was sticking his fingers into Felix’s mouth.

He did not tell Felix what to do with them, but he did not have to. Felix sucked at them greedily, swirled his tongue around them. He would be good, he would not make a sound.

Dimitri looked stunned by his actions. It was a long moment before he came back to himself, his free hand returning to Felix’s cock. He played with the tip, slid his hand up and down the shaft. He even fondled Felix’s balls.

Felix burned.

“Will you be able to keep quiet if I remove my hand?”

Felix nodded; Dimitri’s fingers moved up and down as well.

“Good,” Dimitri said, pulling them out with a pop.

He pushed Felix’s legs apart. Felix let him, assuming it was so he could better fit between them.

He was wrong. That was not what Dimitri was doing.

Dimitri parted his cheeks and used a spit-covered finger to prod between them.

Felix slammed his legs together in shock. “Where are you touching?” he hissed.

“My apologies. If you do not wish to be touched there, I will avoid it.”

“Why would _anyone_ want to be touched in such a place?”

Dimitri looked at him funny, like Felix was the one being strange.

“What?” Felix snapped.

“You’re serious.”

“Can you speak plainly?”

Dimitri had stopped touching him. He looked unexpectedly abashed, a deep contrast to his boldness a moment ago.

“Have you never touched yourself there?”

“Why would I?”

“Oh, Felix—will you trust me?”

Felix hesitated.

“I do not want to do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable, but I promise you, this is not the strangeness you think it is.”

“All right,” Felix said, letting his legs fall open once more. If Dimitri took some perverse pleasure in touching his hole, then so be it. He could be accommodating.

Dimitri’s finger slipped inside him, forcing his insides to stretch around it. It did not hurt, but he could not see the appeal of it either. It not like the instant strike of lightning when Dimitri touched his cock. It was simply _there_.

He furrowed his brow when Dimitri added a second finger; this one did not fit inside as easily. He could not see it as anything but an intrusion. He took a deep breath, ready to tell Dimitri it was pointless, that whatever pleasure others may get from it Felix did not, when something unexpected happened. Dimitri’s fingers pressed against a spot that made Felix jump and cry out.

“You’re not very good at being quiet.”

“Shut up.” Dimitri touched the spot again; Felix bit his tongue to keep quiet. “What’s happening to me?”

“Nothing strange, I swear it.”

Felix did not believe him. This feeling could not be natural. The two fingers inside him no longer felt like very much at all.

“More,” Felix demanded, shifting his hips so he could make Dimitri’s fingers hit that spot harder.

“There is something else I can use if what you want is more.”

“Do it,” Felix demanded.

Dimitri pulled out his fingers. The loss was a shock; what had started off as an intrusion had become something he craved.

Dimitri spread his legs further and lifted his hips. Felix waited, unsure of what he was planning to do. What else was there? He had not seen Dimitri grab anything.

The answer was so obvious Felix burned from his foolishness.

Dimitri’s hard cock pressed against his hole, far longer and thicker than his fingers. Clearly, Dimitri had gone mad. There was no way that _thing_ would fit inside Felix. It was logistically impossible. His hole did not stretch that wide.

Did it?

Felix decided to let him try, feeling great confusion when his rim stretched and stretched, allowing him to be speared open. The feeling was not unpleasant. He thought it should have been.

Dimitri stopped moving when he was fully inside of Felix, as if to catch his breath.

“Does it hurt?” Felix asked curiously.

“You’re asking _me_ that?”

“Am I not supposed to? Since when did you become an expert in these matters?”

“I’m most definitely not an expert. I just apparently have a wider reading selection than you. And no, it doesn’t hurt. It feels so good I’m worried if I move too soon I won’t last.”

“Oh.” He felt good to Dimitri. His face warmed pleasantly. “So? Just try again if you spend too quickly.”

Dimitri laughed. “You are the most exquisite creature.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“It is,” Dimitri said as he began to move.

It much more intense than his fingers. Felix’s entire body moved when Dimitri thrust into him too hard. When Felix moved his hips in time with Dimitri, it added to the intensity; he had to cover his mouth to keep quiet.

When Dimitri hit that wonderful spot once more, Felix clenched around him mindlessly, muffling a moan behind his hand. He did understand how it was possible to feel such a way; it irked him Dimitri knew of it when he did not. How many more secret spots were hidden on him? It felt more like magic than anything real.

His pleasure began to build into a crescendo. After finding that spot once again, Dimitri did not let it go neglected; he thrust into Felix again and again at the perfect angle. Felix had to bite into his palm to keep quiet.

Cruelly, Dimitri touched his cock, shocking him into spilling over Dimitri’s hand.

Dimitri tried to pull out but Felix secured him in place with his legs, wrapping them around Dimitri’s hips in a stubborn refusal to be parted, and giving Dimitri no choice but to spill inside him. He wanted to feel it and was not disappointed.

“Dimitri.” His voice was low and raspy from held-back moans.

“Mmm.” Dimitri pulled out from him.

Being left empty after feeling so full was an act of violence as far as Felix was concerned. “Don’t go.”

“This is my bed,” Dimitri said, smiling. “Though we do have to sleep eventually.”

“Not yet,” Felix said, already feeling the first stirrings of his cock growing hard again.

“No, not yet.”

_____

A pounding on the door roused Felix from his slumber.

“I know you’re awake, Felix!” Sylvain yelled. “You haven’t slept in for years!”

On any other morning, Sylvain would have been right. Felix had a tendency to rise at dawn, a habit developed in boarding school when those early hours in the day were the only moments he could have to himself. This morning, however, that decade long habit had been broken. He had stayed up much too late exploring all the ways his body and Dimitri’s could fit together.

Dimitri groaned underneath him, still half asleep despite Sylvain’s incessant knocking. Felix suspected the other reason he had not woken up at his usual time was because of how warm and comfortable he was; Dimitri’s body heat and soft chest were much better than any blankets and pillows the inn could provide.

Reluctantly, he attempted to sit up, but his progress was halted by a muscular arm holding him tight.

“Dimitri,” Felix hissed, “let go.”

“Don’t want to,” was Dimitri’s petulant reply.

“Felix Hugo Fraldarius! If our friendship means anything to you, you’ll open this door right now!”

Felix poked Dimitri on the nose. “He’s going to wake up the whole inn.”

“Why is that my problem?” Dimitri asked, still refusing to comply.

“Felix! Dimitri! Someone! Anyone!”

“What if he breaks down the door and finds us like this?”

“I’ll say you got cold and needed to be heated up.”

“Don’t be a fool,” he said fondly and kissed him.

The kiss appeared to be sufficient payment, for Dimitri finally released him.

“I’m coming! I’m coming! I was in the washroom, you impatient fool!” Felix lied smoothly.

He opened the door and was met by a hysterical Sylvain standing in the hall with his luggage in tow.

“Oh, thank the goddess and the saints,” Sylvain said, pushing his way into their room. “The night I had! I can’t take another one like it. I’ll sleep on a sofa, the floor, your bathtub—I do not care anymore!”

“Good morning, Sylvain,” Dimitri said. He had put on his eyepatch before Sylvain had walked in; it sat crooked on his face, the tie bunching up his hair.

“You weren’t asleep, were you?”

“He was, you ass,” Felix said. “I had been careful not to wake him as well. Good job.”

“I had to. I couldn’t spend another moment in that room.” He waited, clearly hoping one of them would ask him what he meant. When they didn’t he said, “Hubert is the worst person I’ve ever had the misfortune of sleeping with. Not as in—forget it, you know what I mean. As in actually sleeping. He talks in his sleep, and not in the normal sort of way but with curses you cannot imagine. The first night wasn’t so bad. I was able to ignore it but last night—the unspeakable horror of it! He even started sleepwalking! Sleepwalking!”

Dimitri coughed slightly; Felix suspected he was disguising a laugh. “Yes, I have heard he has a problem of that nature. But I wasn’t aware it was so bad. Perhaps sleeping in an unfamiliar room made it worse.”

“I know we have two more nights left, but I refuse to go back. Please, please, please let me stay in your room.”

Felix thought of all the things he wanted to do with Dimitri and weighed them against his friendship with Sylvain. “You can have the floor,” he said disdainfully.

“Thank you! Your benevolence won’t be forgotten! But are you sure—the floor? None of you are willing to share your generously sized bed with me?”

Dimitri had a bad habit of sacrificing his own comfort for the comfort of others but in the face of Sylvain’s plea, like Felix, he remained silent.

“Fine, be that way,” Sylvain said.

“You could always sleep outside if you’re unhappy with the arrangement,” Felix suggested.

“No, no! That’s quite all right! The floor is just fine!”

Unfortunately, Sylvain’s arrival meant Felix and Dimitri could not resume from where they left off the night previous, though it did not stop them from trying. When Sylvain stepped into the washroom, Felix went to straighten Dimitri’s eyepatch. A moment later, Dimitri was kissing him.

If Sylvain had not made such a racket as he exited the washroom, they would have been caught. As it was, Felix barely had the time to jump out of Dimitri’s arms and feign being occupied in choosing what to wear.

It would be a miracle if Sylvain did not catch on by the end of the trip.

At breakfast, Dimitri and Felix sat next to Edelgard.

“Really, Dimitri?” She wrinkled her nose as if smelling Lorenz’s perfume.

Felix took a discreet sniff of himself and Dimitri; he could not smell anything from either of them. The rest of the table appeared oblivious as well. Whatever the offending odor was, it was too subtle for anyone but Edelgard to notice.

“Ah—well. Such and such,” Dimitri babbled nonsensically. “I forgot it would be apparent. It has been a morning. Hubert scared off Sylvain.”

“Did he? Poor Sylvain.” She did not sound the slightest bit sorry to hear it.

“Yes, poor Sylvain,” Dimitri said, not even attempting to conceal his annoyance.

Felix covered his mouth and smiled at being the only one who knew the true source of Dimitri’s irritation.

Like the day before they started with a walk about town, though this time they strayed from the shops dotting the central streets and focused on the sight and atmosphere of it all. Ashe knew a great deal about the town, and gladly answered every question flung at him to the best of his ability. Hubert, surprisingly, had quite a few. He seemed fascinated by the history of the place and how it differed from now.

Felix did not share his interest and was quick to let his mind wander. Dimitri was wearing the blue waistcoat today, the color bringing out his eye to the point of distraction, just as Felix had feared.

But this time, he was not alone in his distraction. Dimitri kept finding excuses to touch him: removing an eyelash on Felix’s cheek, tucking away a stray bit of Felix’s hair, grabbing his arm to get his attention. Felix felt it was all incredibly transparent, but no one seemed to notice anything amiss about their behavior. They did not even notice when Felix and Dimitri would slip away. Alleyways, corners, gardens, walls, columns: Dimitri kissed Felix anywhere they could remain hidden. It was still not a guarantee they would not be found out, but if Dimitri did not care then Felix could not bring himself to either.

For once the secret in Felix’s heart did not feel heavy at all; the burden was eased now that it was shared. There was much they needed to discuss, but stolen moments on a trip were not the time nor place for it. Between worrying over the future or allowing himself to feel happy, he chose the latter.

Come afternoon the group once again found themselves exploring the coast, but this time they chose to stay away from the crowded beach and hike through the woods bordering the town. There, they split up and took different paths, as they could not all agree on a single route. For Felix and Dimitri, it was a chance to be alone together, and one they took full advantage of. There, hidden amidst the tall coastal trees, they engaged in a frenzied, ill-advised coupling, the danger of discovery not enough to deter them.

Dimitri put his absurd strength to good use and held Felix up against a tree as he entered him. The feel of Dimitri inside him was one he was quickly becoming addicted to; it was a shame they did not have more time, though there was something to be said for being taken in such a rough, hurried manner.�

“Can’t you do something about Hubert?” Felix asked as he buttoned his breeches. He could feel Dimitri’s seed leak from his hole but he did not voice any complaints, as he had been the one to encourage it.

“I can’t exactly tell him to stop sleep talking. Perhaps you and I can share a bed while Sylvain takes the other.”

“Perhaps you should be the one to sleep on the floor for suggesting such a terrible idea.”

Dimitri pouted, forcing Felix to stand on the tips of his toes to kiss it away.

When they reunited with the others, Edelgard looked at them with such revulsion that he was certain she knew of what had transpired in the woods. Had she come across them? It did not seem likely, as she would not have been alone and everyone else was unfazed by their return. Likely then it was to do with their appearance, but Felix could not imagine what. Dimitri had not left any marks upon his skin, as he was quite the gentleman in that regard and any marks Felix had left were hidden underneath Dimitri’s clothes. They had been careful to tidy themselves up, with Felix even painstakingly retying his hair after Dimitri’s machinations had left it askew.

He wondered if Edelgard, like Mr Molinaro, simply did not like him. In her case, he could not dismiss the possibility she was jealous. Dimitri might have been opposed to marrying her, but that did not mean she had the same misgivings. Being accomplished and wealthy, a lady of high status with connections to Faerghus and Adrestia, made it impossible for Edelgard not to have an abundance of suitors. Yet she remained unmarried. Perhaps her reason for ignoring them all was the same as Felix’s.

He watched her carefully as the afternoon bled into the evening, but he could not see any evidence she harbored romantic feelings for Dimitri. Of course, he was not sure what that would even look like as he only had himself to compare.

With Sylvain’s relocation, neither of Dimitri nor Felix was eager to head to bed. As the night fell, they walked through the inn’s gardens rather, both of them reluctant to return inside. Felix wanted badly to touch Dimitri, but even in the dark it was possible for someone to see them from a window. The only privacy they were granted was in regard to their conversation.

“Edelgard’s not in love with you, is she?” Felix asked, voicing the worry that had plagued him since the incident in the woods.

Dimitri’s ensuing laugh startled an owl from a tree; it was a rare moment of resemblance to Lord Lambert. “Whatever makes you think that?”

Felix explained how he had come to the conclusion; Dimitri could laugh all he wanted, but Felix had not imagined her displeasure.

“Ah—it’s, ah.” Even the darkness could not hide Dimitri’s blush. “It’s nothing of the sort. She, ah. She has a very sensitive nose. It’s likely nothing more than a dislike of your cologne.”

“That seems a rather unfortunate ability. How can she stand being in the same room as Lorenz?”

Dimitri snorted. It was most unbecoming which Felix found greatly endearing.

At the end of the garden was a spot they could stand and be invisible to the world. Dimitri, wonderful Dimitri, discovered it and proceeded to kiss Felix senseless. If Felix had not yawned, they might have spent all night in the garden, but as it was, Dimitri insisted they go to sleep.

“Good night, Dimitri,” Felix said after Dimitri had doused the last light.

“Good night, Felix.”

Tucked into bed, Felix’s tiredness fast began to overtake him. He closed his eyes.

“Good night, Sylvain,” came a low, angry voice in a northern accent. “Ah, yes, good night, Sylvain!” came a cheerful falsetto in a posh accent. “Thank you Felix, Dimitri,” Sylvain said in his own voice. “Good night to you both as well.”

“Another word,” Felix threatened, “and you’re sleeping in the garden.”

_____

Come morning, a heavy fog rolled in, blanketing the Rhodos Coast. So thick was the fog that when Felix stepped outside to the inn’s garden after breakfast, the hedges he had hidden behind with Dimitri the night prior were impossible to make out. The foul weather reminded him of Fraldarius where gloomy mornings were a facet of life.

As the hours passed and the fog did not let up, the group gave up on waiting, none of them wanting to spend the entire day indoors. After fielding several suggestions from Ashe, it was decided they would go on a small excursion up a hill just north of the town. Ashe assured them they would not face any troubles despite the visibility issues as he had walked up the hill dozens of times with Lord Lonato, in every weather imaginable, and could vouch for its easy trail. As for why Ashe had climbed it with such frequency, Lord Lonato’s late wife was buried there, at a cemetery at the top of the hill. She had grown up in the area and had requested to be buried with her family rather than in Gaspard. She had treated Ashe and his siblings no different from Christophe while she had been alive, and he mourned just he did his birth mother.

“We don’t have to visit the cemetery, of course,” Ashe had said after he had explained all of this. “But the trails are well maintained because of it.”

Sylvain was adamantly opposed to hiking the hill at all, citing “ghosts” and “common sense” as his reasons. His vivid imaginings of angry spirits taking advantage of the fog to lure them to their deaths sent Ashe into a tizzy as it turned out he had quite a fear of the supernatural.

“Ghosts aren’t real,” Felix angrily assured him.

“You can’t be certain of that,” Ashe said. “There is more in this world than either of us could know of.”

“Have you ever seen a single ghost in all the times you’ve been to the cemetery?”

“No, but the fog—”

“—Is merely a natural weather pattern. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“You’re right, Felix. Why would fog have any effect on ghosts?”

That was not what Felix was trying to say, but if made Ashe stop panicking, he would allow it.

The only truly inconvenient aspect of the fog was the way it blocked the view as they hiked uphill. Felix imagined it must offer a truly spectacular one as it overlooked the town and ocean; he hoped the fog would let up later in the day so that they might see it.

Unfortunately, his hope did not seem to be coming true. They reached the top of the hill in the early afternoon with no sign of the fog letting up; if anything it was getting worse.

Ashe decided he would brave the cemetery after all as it pained him being so near his stepmother’s grave and not paying his respects to her. Mr Molinaro went with him, having apparently brought flowers with him to lay on her grave. Felix recognized them as the same that grew in the inn’s garden; he suspected Mr Molinaro had stolen them after Sylvain’s talk about ghosts had left Ashe distraught.

The rest of them waited outside the cemetery, not wanting to impose. The nearness of the cemetery combined with the unrelenting fog brought a solemn mood to the party. For once, Felix did not think of sneaking off with Dimitri. It did not feel right.

Edelgard approached them. “Dimitri, may I speak with you?”

Hubert stood behind her, his arms crossed and expression bored; he was the only one of them unaffected by the mood.

“Alone,” Edelgard added, looking at Felix.

“Ah,” Dimitri looked at Felix apologetically.

Felix scoffed. “Go on. I’ll go find Sylvain and Ingrid.” The pair of them had been standing under a large tree. Though he and Dimitri had not moved, they were no longer in view.

He frowned. The fog _was_ growing thicker.

Leaving behind Hubert, Felix wandered in what he believed to be the general direction of Sylvain and Ingrid. After a few minutes of walking in circles, in which he should have passed his destination several times, he gave up and admitted he was hopelessly lost.

Felix did not like acknowledging being bad at anything but he perhaps, maybe, possibly did not have the best sense of direction. His usual method of finding his way was relying on landmarks; navigating in the fog posed a unique challenge to his usual way of doing things.

He walked in what he hoped was the direction of the cemetery. After some time, he was able to faintly make out the sound of voices; he was about to call out to them when he froze at what he heard.

“You must be mistaken.” Dimitri was angry.

“I’m sorry, Dimitri,” Edelgard replied. “I’m disappointed as you are, but Lonato has no reason to lie.”

“He does not know everything. We’ll find someone else.”

“Dimitri, you’ve been at this for years. Enough is enough. It’s time to accept there are things you can’t change.”

“I know it may seem like a minor inconvenience for you, but this condition—this _situation_ —I can’t go on like this.” The agony in his voice frightened Felix.

“A _minor_ inconvenience?” Edelgard was venomous. “Just because I’m able to keep up appearances doesn’t mean I haven’t suffered. I’m not as cold or unfeeling as you thi—” She stopped. “Someone’s here.”

Felix stiffened, assuming she had meant him.

“Someone, as in—” Dimitri’s next words were cut off by a piercing cry.

Edelgard and Dimitri took off running. Felix could not see them in the dense fog, but it did not matter when he was able to follow the sounds of screams and shouts.

It was not long before the cemetery’s gates came into view, where Sylvain and Ingrid stood unharmed but worried.

“What happened?” Felix yelled.

“I don’t know,” Sylvain said. “We heard a scream and came running.”

“I think it was Ashe,” Ingrid said. “We heard something else as well—some sort of animal growling.”

“Where’s Dimitri and Edelgard?” Felix asked.

“I don’t know about Edelgard,” Sylvain said, “but you just missed Dimitri. He asked us to wait here.”

“Felix, it’s not safe!” Ingrid shouted as Felix ran into the cemetery.

Someone cried out in pain. Felix followed the sound until he reached its source.

It was Ashe. He was whimpering, his left arm bleeding profusely from a set of nasty puncture wounds. Mr Molinaro was holding onto him, his face blanched with fear. Felix could not tell if he had been injured as well, or if it was Ashe’s blood that had gotten all over him.

Dimitri stood with his back to Felix, his fists clenched at his sides.

“What happened?” Felix asked.

Dimitri spun on his heel. “What are you doing here? Why are you not with Ingrid and Sylvain?”

“They told me you ran into the cemetery. I heard screaming.”

“It’s not safe here. Why did you come?” Dimitri was livid.

“Why did _I_ come? I could ask the same of you!”

“How can I protect you if you won’t listen to me?”

“I don’t want your protection!”

“Enough,” Mr Molinaro interrupted.

Felix guiltily returned his attention to Ashe. He moaned in pain, not fully coherent. He likely would have collapsed if not for Mr Molinaro holding him up.

“Ashe needs a healer,” Felix said.

“I’m well aware,” Dimitri snapped.

“Then what are you all standing around for?”

“It’s not safe, as I keep trying to tell you. We can’t risk moving around in this fog—” He stopped speaking, for the fog which had so persistently plagued them had begun to wane, melting away as if by magic.

Felix had been right about the view. With the fog lifted, the ocean sparkled like a deep blue jewel.

“Now can we go?” Felix asked spitefully.

Dimitri glared at him. “It’s not that simple.”

“If we do not get Ashe to a healer, he’s going to bleed to death. Is that what you want, Dimitri?”

“Of course not. But I can’t risk putting anymore people in harm’s way!”

“Dimitri,” Edelgard’s voice cut through from behind them. “Hubert found… the creature that attacked Ashe. It’s been taken care of.”

Some of Dimitri’s tension eased, but he was far from relaxed. “Let’s go then.”

Mr Molinaro nodded and picked up Ashe in his arms as he was unable to walk.

“Creature?” Felix asked.

“Some sort of wolf,” Edelgard said calmly.

A wolf? He did not know there were wolves in the area, let alone ones that would attack people in broad daylight.

The trip back to town was a blur. Hubert returned and quickly warped Ashe and Mr Molinaro as close to the town as he could. When the rest of the group caught up to them, Ashe was already being seen by a healer.

From what Felix could gather, a wolf had taken Ashe and Mr Molinaro by surprise. It had lunged for Mr Molinaro and taken a good swipe at his back, leaving him with a nasty cut, but it would have been worse if Ashe had not sprung into action and pushed Mr Molinaro out of the way. Unfortunately, the wolf was more than happy to change targets and had bitten Ashe’s arm, its teeth digging into his bone as it refused to let go.

A normal person might have panicked, but Ashe was not a man to be trifled with, no matter how meek and unassuming he appeared; he used his other hand to stab the wolf in the eye with a silver knife gifted to him by Lord Lonato. Ashe was apparently quite good with knives; he had learned how to use them during his brief time as a thief. Felix was alarmed by this fact as he had not known the full details of Ashe’s life before Lord Lonato had saved him.

The mood for the rest of the trip was somber. When Dimitri informed Lord Lonato of Ashe’s injuries, Lord Lonato had exploded with rage: screaming and cursing at Dimitri, as if somehow it was all his fault, before turning to Edelgard and yelling at her as well. His poor treatment of her lasted until Hubert handed him back Ashe’s knife and told him to shut up and stop blaming those who were not at fault.

“Our own associate was hurt as well.” At, first Felix thought Hubert’s voice sounded different because of his barely concealed anger but as he continued to berate Lord Lonato Felix realized it was because his accent had changed: gone was the fake Faerghus accent, replaced instead with the same accent as Edelgard, but stronger.

Lord Lonato remained upset but after Hubert’s intervention, he had at least stopped shouting.

Mr Molinaro’s injuries were not so severe, but there was a chance of infection. That, along with what Felix suspected was a mixture of guilt and gratitude, propelled him to remain at the Rhodos Coast with Ashe come morning.

“I do not come to this decision lightly,” Mr Molinaro said when he broke the news to Dimitri that he was staying. “I have thought about it considerably. If you believe it unwise, I would at least ask someone to remain here with Ashe as he recovers. Hubert, if he is willing.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Dimitri said kindly. “Please, stay with him. For your sake as well.”

“Are you certain? I would not want to—inconvenience you.”

“It will be fine. _I_ will be fine. I have survived many a moon alone, have I not?”

Mr Molinaro did not look reassured.

“You’re not alone,” Felix reminded Dimitri. He wanted so much to touch him, to kiss him, but he could not, not even among their friends. The reality of it stung.

Dimitri took a sharp breath. “Of course, Felix.” He would not look at him.

After a quiet, uneventful train ride they arrived in Fhirdiad as the sun was beginning to set. Felix took a carriage back with Dimitri and Edelgard. He was itching to be alone with Dimitri, not to do anything untoward, but just to talk. Dimitri had been moody all day, the way he used to get when they were teenagers. It had always made them fight. Felix had been, for lack of a better word, horribly needy; it embarrassed him to remember such things, but by remembering he was able to learn from his mistakes. He did not want to fight with Dimitri, especially when he knew it was simply the way Dimitri sometimes was; Felix could not pretend he did not have his own difficult moods.

“Can we talk?” Felix asked as their carriage reached the Blaiddyd residence.

“Yes, I think that’s a good idea.”

Felix sent his things ahead of him and went on a walk with Dimitri to Kyphon Hill. Night had fallen, leaving the park devoid of life. They were alone enough that Felix could have reached out and touched Dimitri, just as he had wanted to. He did not.

“I know things didn’t end well, but I can’t forget the happiness this trip brought me,” Felix said in a rush, not wanting to lose his courage. “All because of you, Dimitri. These past five years—”

“Stop.”

Felix turned and found Dimitri staring at the ground, his hair falling over his face and covering his good eye.

“I cannot bring you happiness, Felix. I cannot bring anyone happiness.”

“That’s not true,” Felix insisted. “Just being with you makes me happy. Even when things are difficult, I would rather endure them with you than alone.”

“I don’t want to see you again.” Dimitri delivered his words with a clinical flatness as if they did not have the power to tear open Felix’s heart.

“What are you talking about?” Felix walked closer to him; Dimitri stepped back in response. “Is this some sort of joke?”

“I mean exactly that. This little dalliance of ours was a mistake and I don’t wish to repeat it.”

Felix felt as if he could not breathe. “If that’s how you truly feel, I—I understand. But I beg of you, do not throw away our friendship.”

“My apologies, Felix, but as you’re clearly infatuated with me, I don’t believe that’s a good idea.”

Everything was slipping out of Felix’s hand. He could not allow it. “Infatuated? You have no right to belittle my feelings in such a way. I have known you my entire life—do you really think what I feel for you is infatuation?”

“Call it what you will. The end result is the same. You cannot be a friend to me. Soon enough I will marry and it will cause you a great deal of pain anyway. It’s better if we part now. You can move on while the season is still going.”

Felix flinched; he felt as if he had wandered into a nightmare. The heart-wrenching pain he had first felt five years ago took hold of him once more, except this time, he knew what it was like to have Dimitri and it made losing him all the worse.

“Don’t do this.” Felix’s vision began to blur.

“I must, for your sake and mine. You may think what I’m doing is cruel, but it would be crueler still if I continued to waste your time on something that will never be more than a few stolen moments.”

“Your friendship is not a waste of my time.”

“Goodbye, Felix. I wish you luck in finding a suitable match.” He turned from Felix and began to walk away.

“Dimitri, please, I beg of you, don’t do this.” His voice broke. He had not cried in years, forcing himself to kill the habit in order to avoid being teased by the other boys, but Dimitri leaving him there in the dark proved too much for him. His tears fell freely.

“Dimitri, come back.” He had never been a beautiful crier; his emotions too messy and raw for anything less than pathetic, heaving sobs.

"Please," he repeated, tasting his own tears, but it was pointless: Dimitri was already gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	4. harpstring moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **some warnings that contain spoilers**
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> I wasn’t entirely sure “how” to tag some of the subject matter this chapter touches upon when it comes to the villain’s plan but basically it involves forced fantasy (i.e. based on Crests and not real world traits) eugenics. There is also talk about how this is a fate worse than death to Dimitri + a vague look into Dimitri’s mental health struggles.

Felix pretended to be ill when he returned home. He must have looked quite terrible, as neither his old man nor Glenn had any difficulties in believing it. He locked himself in his room, sending word to Sylvain and Ingrid as well about his nonexistent illness, and quietly waited out the old man’s stay in Fhirdiad.

A week passed; the old man returned to Fraldarius. The house was quiet once more. Felix feigned a miraculous recovery. Glenn surely saw through it, but he likely assumed it was related to their old man’s departure. Glenn had been doing his best to avoid the old man and his friends as well. He had reversed his sleep schedule so thoroughly, Felix would hear him going to bed with the rising of the sun.

It took Glenn a week to adjust his nocturnal habits into something reasonable again; when he did, he finally noticed that there was something quite wrong with Felix.

As much as Felix pretended to not care for the company of others, he was not Glenn. It was unnatural for him to sit at home for weeks on end refusing all visitors. He had turned down an invitation to Annette’s birthday party, despite it being the first time he had been in town for it in five years. Sylvain had inquired after him three times, but Felix had refused to see him. All of it was unusual for Felix, so it was not a surprise when Glenn began to hound him for answers.

Felix evaded Glenn’s inquiries for as long he could, even going for as locking himself in his room, but Glenn was undeterred. He shouted at Felix through his door and when that did not work he started singing, his voice horribly off-key and driving Felix mad as a result.

“Go away!”

“Though Loog had his queen, his sword did so preen, for the lovely, windy maiden. With skin so fair, as she traveled the air—“

“Shut up! Shut up!”

Glenn did not shut up. He sang the entirety of “The Windy Maiden Fair,” a bawdy ballad about the ancient King Loog and the Maiden of the Wind, as loudly as his poor singing voice allowed. His northern accent became thicker when he sang, making him sound like Lord Gautier. It was not a flattering comparison.

When Glenn was finished, Felix breathed a sigh of relief. Unfortunately, Glenn knew more than one song. The next was “Kyphon’s Wandering Sword.” When he got to the verses about the goat, Felix began to scream.

“What’s wrong with you! Have you no sense of shame!”

“Open the door, dear brother, or I shall sing about the sheep next!”

The threat roused Felix into action and against his wishes he was forced to let Glenn in. He still refused to tell Glenn a single thing about what had happened, insisting that he was fine, but Glenn would not be shaken off. He forced Felix to recount the entire sorry affair.

To Felix’s surprise, Glenn was quite livid. It took all of Felix’s strength to keep him from marching to the Blaiddyd residence and starting a fight. If Felix had been a woman, he could have at least understood Glenn seeking revenge for his lost virtue, but as he was a man he was exempt from such ridiculous notions. No one cared one bit if his maidenhood was intact (whatever that even _meant_ ) and that was not Glenn’s reasoning anyway—he was angry at Dimitri for shattering Felix’s heart. He called Dimitri all manner of names, each one more wicked and shocking than the next; if their old man had been there he would have cuffed him for using such foul language.

“Would you stop that!” Felix scolded. “Confronting him will achieve nothing except humiliating me.”

“He is a being a”—Glenn said a string of words Felix immediately exorcised from his mind—“and needs someone to knock some sense into him!”

“Glenn, please. You’re not helping anyone.”

Glenn hunched his shoulders. “I just can’t stand seeing you be miserable, and for something that—“ He covered his face and made a sound of frustration. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Nothing. You do nothing because none of this is your fault. I can’t help how I feel and neither can Dimitri.”

Glenn did not mention Dimitri again. He did try to get Felix to leave the house, but the hypocrisy of his request made it easy for Felix to brush him off. The most Glenn did was go on an occasional walk; he had no business telling Felix to get out more.

That being said, Felix did not know if his self-imposed exile was doing him any good. He alternated between numbness and misery, but whenever he thought of leaving the possibility of running into Dimitri kept him at bay. If this had been Fraldarius, he could have roamed the extensive grounds of his family’s estate, but it was not. The small back garden of the townhouse had nothing to offer him.

Nearly a moon had passed before someone arrived that could not be turned away.

“Lady Ingrid Galatea is here call upon Lord Felix, sir,” Mr Gough nervously informed Glenn.

For a lady to call upon a gentleman was quite frowned upon; for _Ingrid_ to call upon the house of the man she had been engaged to was the type of scandal that could utterly ruin her. Glenn could not turn her away and neither could Felix. They also could not just let her stand outside the door like Sylvain or the damage to her reputation would happen all the same.

Glenn cursed. “Let her in then.”

The two of them were sitting in the drawing room. Glenn was reading while Felix was staring at the wallpaper in meditation. Felix considered getting up and locking himself in his room but Ingrid would see him going up the stairs. His only hope was Glenn asking her to leave.

“I’ll deal with this,” Glenn said as he marched out of the room.

A moment later, Felix heard Ingrid’s voice through the door.

“Glenn.” Her voice was acidic.

“Ingrid,” Glenn said, much kinder. “You look well.”

“Where’s Felix?”

“He doesn’t want to see anyone right now.”

“That’s not what I asked.” After spending so many years around the Fraldarius brothers, Ingrid had developed quite a sharp tongue of her own.

“He’s in the drawing room,” Glenn conceded.

Felix sighed. He had been betrayed so quickly.

Ingrid burst into the drawing room, pushing open the door wide open and storming up to Felix.

“Felix, where have you—” She cut off upon seeing his face, her eyes going wide.

Felix stiffened. He did not look so terrible, did he? His clothes were clean (the servants insisting on it) and while he did not do his hair in its usual elaborate style, he _had_ put it into a bun. Admittedly, he had tied it in place with a cord he had found in the back garden, but there had hardly been any dirt on it. And he was well-rested as well, no dark circles under his eyes, as he had started taking frequent naps.

“You look awful,” Ingrid said bluntly.

Felix shrugged.

She sat down on the nearest armchair and stared at him. He did not like being looked at and distracted himself with the sea glass bracelet, turning it over on his wrist.

“Sylvain was worried about you. I thought you were just being your usual irritating self.”

“Well, I’m alive. You can inform Sylvain of it. Goodbye.”

“I don’t understand—did something happen? Is your father—Glenn—are they all right?”

“Everything is fine. I just don’t feel like seeing anyone.”

“I know Ashe’s injury came as quite a shock, but when we parted at the train station you were not… like this.” She pointed at him like he was supposed to know what she meant.

“Dimitri has been scarce as well,” she began, stopping when she noticed him flinch.

He stilled his hand around the bracelet.

“Felix, what is going on?”

“It’s none of your concern.”

“Don’t give me that nonsense. You’re one of my oldest friends, Dimitri as well. Sylvain and I decided not to bother you about it when he went away, but now I think that was a mistake. What happened? Why are you fighting again?”

He did not want to have this conversation with anyone, let alone with Ingrid who could not possibly understand what it was like to—

Be rejected? Humiliated? No longer on speaking terms with a man she had been friends with all her life because he did not want to marry her?

Ingrid could understand him far better than he cared to admit.

“Don’t you have better things to do?” Felix spat. “Instead of hounding me in my own home.”

“Asking a few questions is ‘hounding’ you?”

“It is when you’ve barged into my home uninvited. Do you know how this looks? How are you supposed to find a husband like this.”

Ingrid’s eyes flashed with rage. “If you didn’t look so pathetic right now I would slap for that! Is that all you think I’m fit for—being some Lord’s wife? Would you tell Annette that? Mercedes?”

“Annette is an heiress and Mercedes wants to be a nun. She is certainly not on the hunt for a _husband_.”

“You are a narrow-minded fool! You have no idea how hard it is to make your way in a world that wants you to be something you’re not. Not all of us are a duke’s son, free to do whatever we please. Marry, don’t marry—what does it matter to someone like you?”

“You call me narrow-minded, yet you assume I can marry as I please. What a joke! Even if my feelings were returned, it would not be so simple.”

“And why is that?”

“Because the one I want to marry is Dimitri!”

She gaped at him. “As in, you have feelings for Dimitri? _Romantic_ feelings?”

“No, I want to marry him as a friend. Yes, romantic feelings!”

“Are you serious?” She held a hand to her mouth.

“Is it really that difficult to fathom?” Felix said, feeling defeated.

“I—” She shook her head. “No, it’s not. Why are you two fighting then? Is this why you stopped talking to each other in the past?”

Felix nodded grimly. “I let my feelings be known to him before graduation. Obviously, he did not return them.”

“And now?”

Felix summed up what had happened: that he had confessed during the trip and Dimitri had reciprocated, only for him to push Felix away once they returned.

“And you’re letting him get away with it?”

“What do you mean, ‘letting’ him?”

“This is _Dimitri_. He’s stubborn, self-sacrificing, prone to negativity—you get the idea. You can’t possibly believe he doesn’t care for you.”

“He doesn’t want to talk to me. He made that abundantly clear.”

“So? You didn’t want to talk to me either, yet here I am.”

“That’s different. In my case, things are hopeless.”

“Oh, would you just listen to Ingrid!” Glenn yelled at him through the door.

“Are you seriously eavesdropping?” Felix asked.

Glenn opened the door just wide enough to see them. “Well, you’re being quite loud.”

“That doesn’t give you the right to listen in on my conversations.”

“Why? I already know what happened.”

“It really is quite rude, Glenn,” Ingrid said. “Stop cowering already and come inside.”

“I wasn’t _cowering_ ,” Glenn said as he entered the drawing room. “I just thought you wouldn’t want to see me.”

Ingrid sighed, suddenly looking tired. “A few moons ago, that would have been the case. I was so angry with you. I still am, but—why? Why did you do it?”

Glenn fidgeted with his sleeve, avoiding her eyes. “Weren’t you here to speak with Felix?”

“Am I that unworthy of an explanation? What did I do, Glenn, to make you hate me so?”

“I don’t hate you, Ingrid. That’s precisely why I couldn’t marry you once I realized—”

“Realized what?” Ingrid asked darkly.

“That Sylvain is in love with you.”

Felix felt as if he had been thrown across the room—such was his shock at the conversation’s turn. Sylvain was in love with Ingrid? _Sylvain?_ With _Ingrid?_ The same Sylvain who flirted with every lady with a pulse (and some of the gentlemen too)?

“You—you are a fool!”

“Ingrid—“

“Did you think he would swoop in and save me? Take advantage of my shock at being abandoned? Despite what everyone might think of him, he would never do such a thing. It was only by accident I even found out about Rhiannon!”

“I hoped he would talk to you, but it seems he’s even more of an imbecile than I thought.”

Ingrid stood up and slapped Glenn hard enough to make him stumble.

Felix jumped from his chair and put himself between Ingrid and Glenn before they could start brawling in the drawing room. “Let’s all calm down.”

“I’m perfectly calm,” snapped Ingrid.

A bright red mark was forming on Glenn’s face.

“Right,” said Felix. “Putting aside how Glenn completely botched whatever his grand gesture was meant to achieve, do you, that is, Sylvain?”

Felix suspected it was only years of friendship that allowed her to understand what he was asking.

“Maybe! I don’t know. This is all so sudden.”

“It’s been nearly eight moons,” Glenn muttered, running his mouth as usual.

Felix hit him on the back of the head. “Shut up, Glenn.”

“What if Glenn is mistaken? What if Sylvain doesn’t—I’m like a sister to him, surely.”

Felix blinked, then blinked again. Ingrid was flustered. _Ingrid_ was _flustered_? Nothing was making any sense.

“Well, you could always ask and find out,” he replied carefully.

“Me—ask?”

“What, you suddenly care about etiquette? If he doesn’t, he doesn't. Then you can marry someone else or become a nun with Mercedes. Stop pretending as if you’re powerless to do anything about your own future. If you really wish for something, you have to stop waiting around for someone else to bring it to you.”

Ingrid considered his words. “Huh. You know, you actually give good advice sometimes. Perhaps you should take it yourself.”

Felix tsked and turned away from her.

“You should stay for dinner,” Glenn said.

“And risk scandal? It better be worth it.”

“We’ll have Mr Bethell make only the finest meat dishes for you.”

“Well then, I suppose it’s worth the risk.”

Glenn smiled. “Good, good.”

Ingrid took a deep breath. “Don’t start thinking I’ve forgiven you for your buffoonery. I haven’t, but it does mean something that I finally understand what happened. So thank you, for the bare minimum eight months later.”

“I know I messed up, but I couldn’t go through with it knowing how Sylvain felt. But let’s not talk about this any longer. I have to inform Mr Bethell you’re joining us for dinner.”

One Glenn had left, Ingrid turned to him and asked, “When do you plan on speaking with Dimitri?”

“Who said I was going to?”

“The five of us were inseparable growing up. Then Dimitri left and everything fell apart. He’s being an idiot. I don’t know why he’s being an idiot, but he _is_ being one and if you won’t talk to him, I will.”

“You sound like Glenn.”

She gave him a look that said she did not appreciate the comparison. “Talk to him. It would be nice if I could have my friends back. Even if things will never be the same again, they don’t have to be like _this_ : everybody keeping secrets from one another, refusing to talk about anything that matters. I’m sick of it.”

“I’ll try,” Felix said. It was all he could promise her.

_____

Two days passed before Felix gathered the courage to leave the house and seek Dimitri. He left the house after breakfast and arrived at the Blaiddyd residence in the early afternoon. Given the short distance between their homes, this remarkable feat was achieved by Felix taking a three-hour-long walk about the entirety of Kyphon Hill before finally crossing the street and calling upon the Blaiddyd’s.

The footman led Felix into one of the drawing rooms. He acted as if Felix’s arrival was expected, which was strange as Felix had told no one of his plans. He wondered if Ingrid had said something; she could not call upon Dimitri directly but she could always say she had come to see Edelgard.

Being let in without a fight left Felix at a loss as he waited for Dimitri to arrive. He twisted the sea glass bracelet in a poor attempt to expel his energy. It did not work as he jumped from his seat when the door opened, half-dreading, half-longing to see Dimitri’s familiar figure.

But the person who entered the drawing room was not the man he had come for: it was Mr Molinaro.

Felix shriveled up and sank into his chair in disappointment. Dimitri had sent someone else to deal with him. Of course. Felix had no rapport with Mr Molinaro and the man was as immovable as a mountain; he would not be able to talk his way into seeing Dimitri as Ingrid had when she was faced with Glenn.

“Lord Felix, I was hoping you would come.”

“Mr Molinaro. So you’ve returned to Fhirdiad. How fares Ashe?”

“The wolf badly damaged his arm. He is lucky he did not lose it but with time and magic, it should fully heal. He is in Gaspard for now, recovering.”

“That’s good then. And you? How do your wounds fare?”

“They were nothing,” he said dismissively. “Let us discuss the reason you are here.”

Felix bristled. “You are not the person I came to speak with. Has Dimitri sent you here to do his dirty work?” Felix scoffed. “If you’re going to escort me out, just do it. I didn’t come here to waste my time speaking to his proxy.”

“Dimitri is not in.”

“Well then, I take my leave.” Felix stood.

Mr Molinaro sighed. “You are an unsuitable match for Dimitri.”

“ _Excuse_ me?” Felix rounded upon him in anger.

“Even from our brief acquaintance, it’s clear to me you are in possession of a temperament highly incompatible with his. You are shortsighted and ill-tempered, among other things. Dimitri has always spoken so highly of you, that I was quite taken aback by the reality of your person. You are not at all as he described.”

“Are you _trying_ to upset me? I have no quarrel with you, though if you must know you’re not exactly the friendliest person yourself!”

Mr Molinaro was not done. “There is very little that can make a man so blind to another’s faults as he is to yours. I realized then you were not simply a friend he missed but someone he loved dearly and foolishly. I did not like it. I confronted him about it to no avail.”

“What does it matter? You got your way in the end.” Felix gripped the leather cord of the sea glass bracelet, wanting to rip it off.

“You misunderstand something about me. I am not set in my ways. Nor do I disallow my opinions from changing.”

“Speak plainly.”

“While it’s true that I couldn’t understand why Dimitri was so enamored with you, I came to realize that the ‘why’ is not what matters.

“You see, Dimitri has not been a very happy man in the years I have known him. He has been moody, prone to bouts of melancholy, and has an overall low regard for himself. But there is a kindness to him and a desire to help others. He did a great service for the town I lived in and I asked if I accompany him as repayment. In truth, I was worried if he continued on as he had, he was going to get himself killed. This was the only Dimitri I knew until I came to Faerghus.

“He is different here, and you are part of the reason why. He still carries so much pain inside of him, but it’s easier for him when he isn’t isolating himself. After realizing that, my worries shifted as I knew the situation was precarious. I did not want him to get ahead of himself but as usual, he did not listen to me. He is infuriatingly stubborn, as I’m sure you know.”

Felix made a noise of agreement. He certainly did know.

“When I returned to Fhirdiad I found my worries had come true and he had once again driven you away.

“Dimitri is not only stubborn he is difficult and his moods are ever-changing. He will help others even to the determinant of himself. I must ask you, even knowing all this, do you still want to speak with him?”

Felix scoffed. “You’re not the only one aware of his faults. You have, in fact, forgotten quite a few. Like how he’s clumsy and bad at minding his strength. At school, he was banned from the cricket team after breaking one too many windows. And his sense of humor—it’s _awful_. He laughs at things he doesn’t find funny just because he likes to be mean. And he’ll whine, literally _whine_ like a dog, to get his way. It’s pathetic. And his hair—you’ve seen it. It looks like he trims it with garden shears. But despite all this, I care for him more than I can put into words. So yes, I would like to speak with him.”

Mr Molinaro was a supremely calm man; the opposite of Felix and his frequent fits of emotion. Yet, Felix was beginning to believe he was significantly more emotional than he let on.

“There is something you must know about Dimitri, but I can not tell you what it is. You likely would not believe me if I did. I can, however, show you. You will return here tomorrow night after the moon has risen. Go to the back garden; I will leave the gates unlocked for you. It will be there you will find Dimitri.”

“I came here to speak to him _now_ , not at a midnight rendezvous.”

“As has been established, Dimitri is a stubborn man. If you speak to him without doing this, he will continue to find excuses as to why you should stay away from him. There is also one more thing: tell no one of your plans, especially not Lord Glenn.”

“This feels very much as if you’re planning on murdering me.”

Mr Molinaro—to Felix’s complete and utter surprise—laughed. “Yes, I suppose that’s fair. You will have to trust I’m not the sort of man who would do such a thing. You may come as armed as you wish if it provides reassurance.”

The request was bizarre. Felix very much wanted to refuse it but he could not see the point in Mr Molinaro tricking him. And despite his comment about Mr Molinaro’s intentions, there were easier ways to be rid of Felix that did not involve staging a strange moonlight meeting.

“Fine,” Felix said. “Perhaps I’m a fool for trusting you, but I’ll be there.”

The slightest bit of relief made its way onto Mr Molinaro’s features. “I know how strange this must sound, but I promise you it will all make sense.”

Felix had his doubts, but as long as he could speak with Dimitri he would consider Mr Molinaro’s plan a success.

_____

Among the stately, expensive homes surrounding Kyphon Hill, the Blaiddyd residence was the only one that was dark. Felix wondered whether he had been tricked after all, but the gates were unlocked, just as Mr Molinaro had promised they would be.

Felix made his way to the back garden, his boots clacking loudly on the cobbled path. It had been quite a nuisance leaving the townhouse without alerting Glenn. He was still partially nocturnal and likely forever would be; there was no point in waiting for him to fall asleep as he would certainly outlast Felix. In the end, Felix had been forced to use the servant’s doors and climb over the garden wall like a man sneaking out to conduct a torrid affair.

Absolutely ridiculous.

The back garden of the Blaiddyd residence was extensive, double if not triple the size of Lord Lonato’s. It was not a pretty flower garden, however, but a mishmash of trees and hedges. A great-great-great-grandfather or some such of Dimitri’s had attempted to grow an orchard at one point; what was left of it were clumps of trees dotting the grounds. The hedges had been planted by Dimitri’s birth mother but after her death, they were neglected and had since grown wild; at this point, they stood taller than a full-grown man. The overall effect was something rather maze-like.

Felix passed by a rundown garden shed and saw Mr Molinaro sitting on the terrace alone, drinking tea and reading the evening post by candlelight. A second cup and saucer were laid out, but when Felix got closer he saw the cup was empty.

“Where’s Dimitri?” Felix asked.

Mr Molinaro set the paper down. “There is something you must know.”

“You promised me he would be here.”

“You must not be alarmed when you see him.”

“You make it sound as if he’s ill.”

An expression Felix did not understand flashed across Mr Molinaro’s face. “Not ill,” he said.

Felix reached for his dagger. He had brought it as a compromise from taking one of the family swords; Glenn might notice if one went missing. He did not think Mr Molinaro was plotting his demise, but on the chance he was, Felix would not go down without a fight.

Mr Molinaro ignored Felix’s threat and instead blew on a whistle that had been hanging around his neck. The whistle was soundless except for the noise of Mr Molinaro’s breath passing through it.

“What are you doing?” Rather than being afraid of Mr Molinaro offing him, he was beginning to wonder if the man was just mad.

The sound of rustling leaves and snapping branches interrupted his musings. Felix squinted out into the dark and saw a shape moving toward them.

It was definitely not a person, that much was obvious from how it moved, but he was unaware of the Blaiddyd family having a dog. He tapped the hilt of his dagger anxiously.

A creature of some sort came bounding out from the hedges. It did not look like any animal Felix had ever seen before, but if he had to guess, it was something like a wolf with light fur. But it was no real wolf: as it came closer, it switched from standing on all fours to using two legs as a man would.

Felix took a step back in fear.

The creature began walking up the steps to the terrace. The same terrace Felix and Mr Molinaro were on, unarmed except for Felix’s dagger and Mr Molinaro’s teaspoon. Not that a sword would have helped against such a massive creature: when it stood on its hind legs it was far taller than any true man, making even Mr Molinaro look small.

_Why was Mr Molinaro not scared?_

As the creature drew near, Felix unsheathed his dagger; it seemed Mr Molinaro had brought him here to die after all. No matter. Felix would fight for his life to the bitter end.

“Stay back, beast,” Felix said as if the thing could understand him.

Except, strangely, it seemed like the creature did. Or at least, something about Felix’s command made it stop in its tracks.

It looked at him, the moonlight highlighting its face, and Felix _knew_.

“Dimitri?”

A single intelligent blue eye stared at him.

“What is the meaning of this? Mr Molinaro, explain yourself.”

At the mention of Mr Molinaro, the creature looked at the man and snarled.

“I could not stand back and watch this foolishness any longer,” Mr Molinaro said calmly. He was not speaking to Felix, but to the creature, to _Dimitri_.

Dimitri growled at Mr Molinaro and then, in a motion so fast it was nearly a blur, jumped off the terrace and fled into the garden.

“What the hell is going on?” Felix asked. “Is this some sort of prank? Some spell gone wrong?”

“It’s exactly as it appears to be, Lord Felix. When the moon is full, Dimitri takes on the appearance of a man-like wolf.”

“You’re saying Dimitri is a _werewolf_?”

“That is one way of naming his condition.”

Felix took a deep breath. Countless memories flitted through his mind. “Glenn knows, doesn’t he.”

“I believe he was there when Dimitri was bitten.”

The Duscur trip. Felix wanted to laugh. “Idiot,” he said, not knowing which of them he meant. Perhaps himself for being so blind. Though was it really his fault he had not guessed the reason for Dimitri’s strangeness? Werewolves were not supposed to be _real_.

“I’m going to kill him.” Felix sheathed his dagger and ran after Dimitri.

“Lord Felix!” Mr Molinaro shouted.

Felix ignored him and ran through the hedges, following the trail Dimitri had left behind. It was a good thing the moon was so bright, or he would have lost his footing on all the debris scattered on the ground.

“Dimitri!” He was marginally faster than the human Dimitri, beating him in races at school, but the werewolf Dimitri was another matter. “Dimitri, stop running away!”

Dimitri did not run in a straight line as it was impossible to without tearing through the hedges. He ran this way and that, leading Felix in circles, exhausting him and making it impossible for him to catch up.

“Aren’t wolves supposed to be predators?” Felix yelled. “Why am _I_ the one chasing _you_?” He caught a glimpse of Dimitri through a hedge before he bounded out of sight yet again.

It was no use. He was never going to catch Dimitri in a game of chase. He was much too fast like this.

Felix came up with a very stupid plan.

The garden was not really a maze, as much as it felt that way. Among the overgrown hedges were the trees, and it was them Felix took advantage of. He climbed up one of the sturdier ones and surveyed the garden.

Given Dimitri’s massive size, it was easy to spot him from above even when he was moving on all fours. He could run all he wanted, but it was impossible for him to hide.

Felix sent a quick prayer to the goddess and leaped from one tree to the next. His foot skidded on the bark, but he held onto the branch and did not fall. He did this twice more until he was near the center of the garden, having cut across several rows of hedges in less than a minute. He waited. Dimitri was expecting him to keep to the defined paths. He was not looking up.

When Dimitri passed beneath his tree, Felix jumped.

“Would you stop running away?” he shouted as he crashed onto Dimitri’s soft fur.

The momentum of his fall knocked Dimitri down. He whined pitifully.

“Don’t even think about bolting!” Felix said, grabbing onto Dimitri’s fur. “Ten years! Ten years you’ve kept this little secret of yours—and forced Glenn too as well! What were you thinking? Did my friendship mean so little to you?”

Dimitri’s voice was normally higher and softer than his own, but in this form when he spoke it was lower than his with a gravelly tone. “It was precisely because you meant so much to me that I did not want you to see me in this form.”

“Did you think it would frighten me?”

“Does it not?” he asked scornfully.

“Of course it does, you fool! Who wouldn’t be frightened seeing their friend become a monster? Naturally, you had to go and ruin my fear by running away like a startled rabbit. Absolutely pitiful! What kind of werewolf are you?”

“I’m sorry—did you _want_ me to attack you?”

“At least then I would I understand why you lied to me for a decade! Because at the moment, I’m not seeing why you thought I would be put off by a little fur!”

Dimitri made a chuffing sound Felix assumed was supposed to be laughter. “As usual, your way of thinking confounds me, which isn’t a complaint. I did not always have this level of control, you know. Children have a harder time of it. And in my case, it did not help that I was lacking in practice.

“When we were in school, my father paid an obscene amount of money to keep my condition quiet. They would lock me away for the night with an array of spells that kept me from fully transforming, but it was not a comfortable solution. The pain of the magic was, to put it mildly, agonizing.”

“That’s awful,” Felix said. “But that’s clearly no longer the case. Yet you still kept your condition a secret.”

“I have my reasons,” Dimitri said stubbornly.

Felix crawled off of him, no longer worried he would run away. “Roll over,” he commanded.

“I’m not a dog,” Dimitri said, but he listened to Felix all the same, and lay on his back.

Felix sat on top of him and lightly smacked his snout. “If your reasons were so impressive, Mr Molinaro would not have ratted you out.”

Dimitri did not dispute Felix’s logic.

Felix had not been lying when he had said he was frightened, but it was not _of_ Dimitri, but _for_ him. What horrors had Dimitri endured because of this curse?

“Your eye. How did you lose it exactly?”

Dimitri huffed. “Of course you would ask that. This wretched ailment has but one benefit: I can heal from almost anything. The only exceptions are injuries inflicted by silver, wolf’s bane, or another werewolf.”

Those were three weaknesses too many for Felix’s liking. He wanted Dimitri safe and borderline immortal.

“That’s wonderful, but I did not mean _how_ in the literal sense. _Who_ was it, and why did they do it?”

“It was the werewolf who turned me.”

Felix took a sharp breath. “That’s who you were searching for?”

“Yes, that’s what I’ve mainly been doing these past five years, starting in Duscur.” He made a sound Felix could not quite interpret, but it did not seem happy. “All of it was for naught. I needn’t have bothered leaving Faerghus.”

“Who is it?” Felix asked, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Felix, listen to me. She’s dangerous.”

_She?_ “Who is it, Dimitri? Tell me.”

“Cornelia.”

Felix sat up straight in surprise. “Your uncle’s _mistress_?”

Mrs Arnim– _Corenlia_ was not someone Felix knew well. Ostensibly, she was an Adrestian sorceress employed by the Grand Duke but in truth, she was one of several mistresses he supported. Being of common birth, the Grand Duke would never marry her. He was not the type.

“Yes, needless to say, it was not a happy revelation.”

“Does your uncle know she’s a werewolf?”

“If he doesn’t, he’s under a spell. Which is to say, I’m nearly one hundred percent certain he knows.”

“Asking you to marry Edelgard—is that her doing?”

“Yes.”

“She won’t get away with this.”

“Felix, don’t be rash. She has complete control over her abilities. She can switch forms at any time. You can’t beat her in a fight. I won’t watch you die for me.”

Did Dimitri expect him to sit by and watch as Cornelia wrecked his life? After all she had already done to him? He would not— _could_ not do it.

“I’m not a fool,” Felix said angrily. “I know I can’t win against her so easily, or you would have done it already. But I promise you, she won’t have her way. You’re not marrying Edelgard.”

“Somehow I almost believe you.”

Felix rested his head against Dimitri’s chest. “Believe me, Dimitri.”

Cornelia was not going to make Dimitri marry someone he did not want to. Felix would not allow it.

Dimitri made a wonderful bed in this form. He was large enough for Felix to fit on top of him without having to worry about falling off and his body heat made the need for a blanket unnecessary. Exhaustion must have been catching up to Felix for him to think so fondly of sleeping on Dimitri. He did not normally stay up this late, nor did he go on midnight runs through gardens.

Felix was idly stroking Dimitri’s fur, trying to stay awake, when he heard Dimitri’s pulse quicken. Felix thought he might be imagining things and tried to find a way to trigger it to happen again. He nuzzled his face into Dimitri’s plush chest and touched him everywhere he could reach, wanting to know what would make Dimitri’s heart react the most.

“ _Felix._ ” Dimitri made the most pitiful whine. “I’m still very much myself right now. Not a dog.”

“You seem to enjoy being pet like one.”

“Yes,” he cried, his voice strained, “therein lies the problem!”

“I don’t see how enjoying yourself is a problem.”

A garbled noise came from his throat, the sound of it not human enough to be called laughter. “Unfortunately, ‘enjoying myself’ as you put it, is a considerable problem in this form. One might even call it a _massive_ problem.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

Dimitri let out a wretched howl and covered his face with huge, clawed hands.

“Dimitri?”

“Felix, if you must know— _I am aroused._ ” The last three words were said in a rushed whisper.

Aroused? He was aroused? From Felix _petting_ him? True, Felix’s hands had wandered over him boldly but he was covered in fur, like an animal.

But he was not an animal, as he kept pointing out. He had a human mind and a human heart, no matter his appearance. When Felix squirmed on top of him, touching him relentlessly, it caused a reaction. A _massive_ one, apparently.

Felix twisted around to inspect it.

“Felix, why are you looking at it!” Dimitri shrieked, sounding less like a terrifying creature of legend and more like a scandalized maiden.

Felix snorted. “You can’t just tell me you have a massive cock and expect me not to look.”

Dimitri had not been exaggerating. His cock was proportional to the rest of him, which was to say it was _enormous._ It was also an utterly inhuman gleaming, shining red. As Felix was ignorant of wolf anatomy, he could not say if it was a typical representation or if Dimitri’s hybrid nature had affected it as well.

“Please—can you not say such things!” Considering Dimitri had fucked him a forest not far from their friends, it seemed rather rich of him to suddenly start acting like a blushing virgin.

“Regrettably, I think I will have to work my way up to it.”

“Work your way up to what?” Dimitri asked foolishly.

“To taking you in this form,” Felix said like it was obvious.

Dimitri nearly dislodged him as he attempted to hide his cock from Felix’s sight. “Stop, you’re making it _worse_.”

Felix had naively assumed it was fully erect. It was not. He could not tell if it had grown, or if it had simply come out further from its sheath; the end result was the same: it was bigger than before.

“Hmm.” Felix could not help himself. He had to touch it; the temptation was too great.

A burning, searing heat greeted him, making him gasp in surprise, but he did not let go; he wrapped his hand around it as much he could. It was much too thick to fully grasp in one hand alone, but that did not stop him from trying anyway. As he struggled, his hand slid from the slickness covering it, causing Dimitri to let out a small whine. It spurred Felix to work his length, listening to the huffs of his breath to gauge what he liked.

He did not last long under Felix’s attention, coming in a hot spurt in Felix’s hand. His seed felt different, thicker somehow, but before Felix could take a closer look, Dimitri’s long tongue licked it away. If he thought he was being helpful by cleaning Felix’s hand, he was sorely mistaken; his spit was not an improvement.

Felix discreetly wiped his hand off on Dimitri’s fur. Exhaustion was beginning to hit him again now that his brief excitement at making Dimitri come was over. He yawned. “I think I will take a nap.”

“Here?” Dimitri asked, alarmed.

Felix nodded, already half-asleep as he made himself comfortable on Dimitri’s soft fur.

_____

Felix’s nap lasted the entire night. When he finally awoke, he found himself in a large four-poster bed, alone. Someone had partially undressed him, leaving him only in his shirt and breeches. A quick glance about the room revealed the rest of his things carefully laid out on a dresser.

He did not recognize his exact surroundings, but judging by the decor it was fair to assume he was inside the Blaiddyd residence. Everything in it spoke of excessive wealth. He knew as well that the Blaiddyd’s had dozens of unused rooms which was typical for a country estate but highly unusual in the city, but the Blaiddyd line had descended from Faerghus’s royalty and did not adhere to normal standards. If Felix remembered correctly, this specific residence had been built for a prince, some second or third son that had been never inherited the throne but had lived in luxury thanks to his Crest. Technically, even today Dimitri was somewhere within the line of succession but it would take quite a catastrophe (including the deaths of his uncle and father) for it to matter.

Felix made himself presentable—putting on his missing clothes, sliding on his boots, and tying up his hair—before setting out to find Dimitri.

His room was along the second floor landing; Dimitri’s room was on the other end, assuming he still kept the same quarters. The mansion was quiet but as he walked along the landing he noticed servants scuttling about on the ground floor; wherever they had been last night while Dimitri was roaming the back garden, they had returned from.

He was nearly at Dimitri’s bedroom when a door opened, revealing a tired Edelgard. She stepped out onto the balcony, stifling a yawn. Her long white hair was undone, spilling over the back of her nightgown.

Felix froze, unsure of how she would react to being found in such a compromising state. Even Ingrid would have had something to say about Felix walking in on her in her nightclothes.

Edelgard, however, was not Ingrid. She turned her head to him and sniffed; this time her face did not contort into one of disgust and instead remained perfectly neutral.

“Hmm,” she said, eyeing him.

“Does Dimitri still keep his old quarters?” he asked.

“Yes.” Her piercing stare evaluated him. He looked away from her, uneasy.

“Thanks.” Edelgard’s intensity had always unnerved him. He seldom interacted with her alone because of it. More than judged, he felt as if she was picking him apart, looking for the weaknesses in his heart. He did not want to know what she would do when she found them.

He knocked on Dimitri’s door, his body tensing as he waited for a response. He could almost convince himself the night previous was naught but a dream, a delusional fantasy cooked up by a desperate mind. The problem was Felix doubted he was imaginative enough to come up with such a story, even in the world of his dreams.

The door opened. Dimitri answered, disheveled from sleep. His eyepatch had been hastily put on, and his hair curled messily around his neck.

“Felix, you’re up early.” He rubbed the sleep from his good eye.

There was something Felix had planned to say, something important, but he forgot it as he pushed Dimitri into his room and kissed him.

“Oh,” said Dimitri when Felix gave him a chance to breathe again.

“Oh? What do you mean by ‘oh?’”

“You’re still interested in being with me?”

Felix growled. “What kind of nonsense are you spouting? Did I not make myself clear when I took you in my ha—“

Dimitri covered Felix’s mouth, unable to bear listening to Felix describe his actions. Annoyed, Felix bit into his palm, forcing him to drop his hand.

“Yes, I remember!” Dimitri squeaked. “I just thought, come the morning you might have changed your mind.”

“What foolishness. You should know my feelings aren’t so fickle.”

“I do know it, Felix. I do. Yet some part of me always insists I’m wrong. That you do not want me, that you _could_ not want me. I’m must always fight to silence it.”

“Hmm, I’ll just have to keep reassuring you then.” Felix kissed him again, his pace slow and languid. He had to stand on the tips of his toes to reach Dimitri, a most inconvenient thing. He brought his lips lower, biting into Dimitri’s neck. Dimitri let him, letting out sweet sighs as Felix sucked a mark into his skin.

Felix wanted more. He fell to his knees and made quick work of freeing Dimitri’s cock from his breeches. It was almost a disappointment to see his normal, human cock. Felix had liked the size of the other one, but he could hardly pretend this version of Dimitri was anything but well-endowed.

His cock was heavy in Felix’s hands, and heavier still in his mouth, but it was a weight he was more than willing to bear. He lapped at the tip, watching carefully for Dimitri’s reaction. He was too composed for Felix’s liking, so he steeled himself into swallowing as much of Dimitri as he could stand. This had been the challenge of before: taking him in the mouth without choking; he was not certain he could do so now, but he was nonetheless determined to try.

“Felix,” Dimitri moaned his name quietly. His hands carded through Felix’s hair, ruining the meticulous work that had gone into tying it up. Felix made a small noise of irritation, but with Dimitri’s cock in his mouth all he achieved was a pulling out a soft gasp from Dimitri and a thrust of his hips.

Felix did gag then, but it was from being unprepared. That could be remedied. He relaxed his throat and swallowed Dimitri’s cock once more, pulling at his hips and encouraging him to move. He felt content as Dimitri thrust into him; if he could not convince Dimitri of his feelings with words he was more than happy to do it with his actions. He braced himself on Dimitri’s thighs and let himself be used.

No matter how thoroughly Dimitri lost himself to pleasure, Felix kept from gagging again, though nothing could be done about the tears that welled up in his eyes.

When Dimitri finished down his throat, his completion took them both by surprise. Felix swallowed his seed with a certain amount of pride. He _liked_ being good at things and he especially liked being good at them in front of Dimitri; the combination of the two was deeply satisfying.

“You’ve not been practicing, have you?” Dimitri asked lightly as he pulled up his breeches. He was unable to fool Felix, there was an edge of his unhappiness to his question.

“Don’t be foolish, boar.” Dimitri’s relief was pathetically obvious, but Felix could not mock him for it when it made his heart flutter so.

“Still with that nickname. Surely, you cannot still consider it accurate.” He offered his hand to Felix and helped pull him up from the floor.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Felix asked.

“I’m not a were _boar_.”

“You could transform into any manner of animal and still be a boar.”

“Duly noted,” Dimitri said dryly. He hunched over to reach Felix’s lips for a kiss. “El will be most displeased with us again.”

“Why?” Felix asked sharply. “You said she wasn’t jealous.”

“Ah, well, as I said before her sense of smell is highly developed, even in this form.”

“What do you mean, even in this form?”

“Did Dedue not tell you? El is a werewolf as well.”

“What? You’re both—“ He cut off; that was not the important part. “Are you saying she can smell when we’ve been intimate?” He thought of all the times Edelgard had looked at him as if she had smelled something revolting and felt as if he might die on the spot.

“Ah, yes? El has a greater connection to her wolf form. The spells used to control me when I was younger were, ah, developed by Cornelia. Obviously, my father did not know she was the werewolf that had bitten me. He was trying to make things easier for me. Unfortunately, the spells seem to have permanently weakened my connection between forms; I’m no longer able to shift without a full moon.”

“That woman again,” Felix cursed. “Why? What does she get out of doing this to you?”

“A great many things, apparently, as I’ve come to learn on my search for answers. She was once part of a pack of werewolves that have a certain disdain for humanity. She was cast out from them after biting me, actually, though I believe it was more of an excuse to purge themselves of a member who had grown too ambitious. Regardless, I was not meant to be turned at that time. It seems there were other plans for me, but she ruined them by biting me out of revenge after Stepmother and Father had freed El.

“As far as El and I can tell, her little plan to have us wed is a desperate bid to get back in her former pack’s good graces. There are things that make a werewolf stronger than normal: Crests are one of them, but so is being born rather than made. The strongest werewolf would be one born, and with a Crest. Cornelia does not care about us, what she truly wants is our children.”

Felix felt as if he was going to be sick. “She’s demented. Such a plan—as if either of you would stand for it.”

To his horror, Dimitri’s expression turned pained. “In the years since she’s left her original pack, she’s turned quite a few wolves to make a pack of her own. She’s not one that is easily opposed. We’ve been trying. The trip to the Rhodos Coast was for that purpose. Lord Lonato, he’s uh, a werewolf hunter, you see.”

“ _What?_ You _intentionally_ met with a werewolf hunter? Do you have a death wish?”

Dimitri chuckled, which was not an answer.

“Dimitri, do not make light of such things.” Felix felt beside himself in worry. “You must promise me you will not be so callous with your life again.”

Dimitri lifted Felix’s chin up and looked into his eyes. “Felix… I cannot make that promise. I wish, most ardently, that I could, but I will not become Cornelia’s pet. Such a fate would be worse than death. Do not ask me to live that way.”

Felix trembled; he knew to ask Dimitri to live no matter what was cruel, not just to him, but to Edelgard as well. What Cornelia wanted was a violation of their body and souls. It did not mean Felix could stand hearing it.

“I will kill her before it comes to that,” he promised.

Dimitri took Felix’s hand and kissed each finger. “I will do everything in my power to save myself and El. But you misunderstand the reason we visited Lord Lonato. We were hoping he may have a cure. You see, Christophe was bitten by a werewolf some years ago and Lord Lonato has thrown every resource into finding a way to reverse his affliction. Unfortunately, his results have driven him to the conclusion that such a thing is impossible.”

“He can’t possibly be certain—“ Felix cut off, remembering the conversation he had overheard between Dimitri and Edelgard, and the wolf attack that had followed. “Ashe—he was bitten. Is he a werewolf now?”

“No, but the full story is better told by Dedue. It’s getting late, and as much as I would like to stay in this room with you forever, your absence will be noticed if you stay any longer.”

“So? As if I care. It’s only Glenn.”

“Is that so? Well, I insist you remain for breakfast then which means, most unfortunately, we still must go downstairs.”

Felix wanted to object, but he hated the thought of Dimitri skipping a meal even more than his desire to stay upstairs with him. He did not need Dimitri to know of his reasoning, however.

“Hmph, if you insist.”

_____

Edelgard and Mr Molinaro joined them for breakfast. Lord Lambert and Lady Anselma were not in residence. They had a habit, Dimitri informed him, of being elsewhere during a full moon. He said it without bitterness, so Felix felt it for him, cursing Dimitri’s father for turning a blind eye to his struggles. To this, Dimitri explained his father lived with immense guilt over Dimitri’s turning: he had interfered with Edelgard’s situation, and in the process had caused the death of the one that had turned her. Cornelia had used that death as an excuse for revenge, biting Dimitri to taunt Lord Lambert. A bite on the full moon was guaranteed to create a werewolf, as long as the victim did not die before the change could take place. That was when Cornelia had chosen to bite Dimitri, leaving nothing to chance. After he had transformed, Lord Lambert had sought out a way to help Dimitri, speaking to his brother who in turn suggested Cornelia may be of help. She had gleefully developed an agonizing spell that had allowed Dimitri to stay human during a full moon.

Felix had never hated anyone as he did Cornelia.

Ashe had not been bitten during a full moon, but it was a near thing. The stronger the moon was, the more likely the bite would take. A bite during the new moon was almost always safe from turning, but a bite during the days surrounding a full moon had a high chance of success. This made the bite Ashe had received incredibly dangerous as it had happened mere days before one. Under normal circumstances, he would have stood no chance in avoiding a transformation but in the years Lord Lonato had spent searching for a cure for his son, he had discovered a way to decrease the likeliness of a person turning in one.

He had used this concoction on Ashe, which sounded admirable to Felix until Mr Molinaro explained the consequence of Lord Lonato’s failure would not have resulted in Ashe becoming a werewolf, but in his _death_. Lord Lonato had knowingly and willingly decided that Ashe was better off dead than transformed.

Mr Molinaro explained all this with a poorly concealed venom. He burned with disgust for Lord Lonato, seeing nothing redeemable in his action. Felix had to agree with his assessment. Mr Molinaro had even found out Lord Lonato’s care and adoption of Ashe was a farce: he had adopted him because he was not heartless enough to kill his own blood, but if Christophe’s offspring were to share in his affliction, he planned on disinheriting him. Ashe was a spare heir; if he became a werewolf he would be rendered useless to Lord Lonato.

Felix was disgusted by what he heard. His esteem of Mr Molinaro heightened considerably. They were of the same mind in this matter, caring only for Ashe.

The worst of it was Ashe likely would have died if not for Mr Molinaro’s presence. The central ingredient to the concoction Lord Lonato had brewed was wolf’s bane, which despite its name was as poisonous to humans as it was to wolves in high doses; Mr Molinaro had worked tirelessly to keep it from killing Ashe.

Though the son of a blacksmith, Mr Molinaro had trained to be a healer. In Faerghus, most healers were affiliated with the Church but in Duscur, of course, there were no such conventions.

“A healer. Somehow, I am not surprised. Is that how you met Dimitri?”

“You are correct. Cornelia’s attack happened near my home. I was in training to be a healer at that time and helped in the treatment of Lord Lambert, Lady Anselma, and Lord Glenn’s injuries.

“I reunited with Dimitri when he returned to investigate what had happened to him. You might not remember it, but some years ago there was an earthquake in Duscur. If not for Dimitri, many in my town would have perished, including my sister. He rescued them from the rubble and fires that followed. And as if that were not enough, he stayed for many moons helping us rebuild.”

“You make it sound exceptional,” Dimitri said, embarrassed, “but anyone would have helped in the wake of such a disaster.”

“No, Dimitri, they would not have.”

Felix agreed with Mr Molinaro; very few people would help rebuild a town after a natural disaster, let alone one in a foreign country.

Dimitri ducked his head and said, “Regardless, you’ve long paid me back for my actions.”

“As long as you continue to be reckless with your life, I cannot rest easy.”

“Dedue… I promise I will soon retire from such things, one way or another. You will be able to return home.”

“You’re a fool,” Felix snapped.

“Felix?”

“‘One way or another?’ Do not speak so flippantly. Cornelia is not going to win. I won’t let her, and you can—“

A knock on the door interrupted his rant. A servant walked in, bringing news of a visitor.

“Lord Glenn Fraldarius has come calling, sir. He says he will not be turned away.”

“You may let him in,” Dimitri said, confused. “It’s quite all right.”

“We would have, sir, but he is armed and making threats toward your person.” The servant glanced disdainfully at Felix.

“Armed?” Edelgard asked.

“Yes, Lady Edelgard. With a sword.”

“Ah, I see,” Dimitri said. “Let him in nonetheless. Felix, would you care to join me in greeting your brother?”

Felix scowled; it was not as if he had a choice. He followed Dimitri out of the dining room, wondering what in the world Glenn was thinking.

As they reached the entrance hall, Felix heard Glenn before he saw him. He was shouting obscenities, as was his way, and demanding Dimitri be brought before him.

“Glenn, how good to see you,” Dimitri said pleasantly when he was in sight.

Glenn was armed not just with any weapon, but with the silver dueling sword that normally hung in their father’s study. Felix nearly lost it seeing Glenn with the only weapon they owned that could harm Dimitri. The only thing that kept him calm was that it was sheathed.

“Glenn! What do you think you’re doing with that sword?”

“Felix, you’re alive!” He looked wildly relieved.

“Of course I’m alive you idiot!”

“You cannot imagine what I thought. The timing of your absence…” He shook his head. “I’m glad I was wrong.”

Glenn strode toward them calmly, and to the shock of everyone present, punched Dimitri right in his missing eye.

As Dimitri crumpled to the ground, Felix shouted, a maid screamed, and two footmen ran to capture Glenn.

Felix kneeled in front of Dimitri, his back to Glenn, and examined Dimitri’s eye socket, moving his eyepatch to the side and taking great pains to shield his empty socket from view.

He did not see any blood. “Are you hurt?”

“Glenn has quite the left hook,” Dimitri said, wincing. “I will be all right, though I can feel the unfortunate beginnings of a headache.”

“That idiot.” He gently moved Dimitri’s eyepatch back into place and turned to Glenn, who was staring at them wide-eyed as he was being restrained.

“You rake!” He pointed at Dimitri, furious. “You dare to take advantage of my brother’s affections, you despicable piece of shit! I’ve had enough of your—“

“Stop it!” Felix shouted, standing up. “You’re making a _scene_. Dimitri finally explained everything. We’ve quite made up, so that’s enough of your ravings!”

Dimitri stood up as well. “If you would please release Lord Glenn,” he said to his footmen.

“But, sir—“

“This was a simple misunderstanding,” Dimitri said. “Lord Glenn will control himself moving forward.

The footmen reluctantly released Glenn, who shook them off angrily. “Let’s go, Felix.”

“You’re not the old man to tell me what to do,” Felix said peevishly.

Dimitri placed a hand on Felix’s shoulder. “Felix, it’s all right. We’ll speak again soon, do not fret.”

“Hmph,” Felix said, pretending Dimitri’s touch did not soothe him.

Glenn stared at Dimitri’s hand with such concentration Felix wondered if he was trying to set it aflame.

“We’re leaving now,” Glenn said, yanking Felix out of Dimitri’s grasp.

“Glenn, you’re being ridiculous!” Felix complained as Glenn dragged him out of the Blaiddyd residence.

“If not this evening, tomorrow morning I shall call on you!” Dimitri shouted at him from the door.

“You had better!” Felix said, unable to keep the smile from his face.

Upon seeing it, Glenn began to curse once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was not the furry p0rn part i tagged for in case you were wondering 🤡


	5. garland moon (part i)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if this wasn't written for an event i would have forced this fic into even chapter counts. alas.

Free to tell Felix the truth, Glenn was finally able to describe what had happened at Duscur. He told Felix all he remembered, sparing him no details of Cornelia’s cruelty. She had overturned their carriage first and had killed their coachman before setting her sights on their party. Lady Anselma had been knocked out cold with one swipe of Cornelia’s hand while Glenn had been thrown out of the way, flying in the air until he hit a tree, the force of it breaking several of his ribs. Lord Lambert and Dimitri were more difficult for Cornelia to handle. They both possessed that unnatural Blaiddyd strength and even a werewolf could not so easily toss them aside; she had miscalculated their tenacity and Lord Lambert's fury at seeing his son’s life threatened; Cornelia had been forced to slice Lord Lambert open with her claws before she had been able to capture Dimitri to bite him.

Felix had always known his friendship with Dimitri had changed after the Duscur trip, but in all his imaginings he had never guessed the true reason why. At thirteen, he had begun to feel his first stirrings of lust toward Dimitri; with the way Dimitri had started avoiding him, he became convinced he had been found out. Even when it appeared he was wrong and he had gained Dimitri’s trust once more, he had vowed to better hide his feelings, a vow he had kept until the last year of their schooling. But that was all in the past, and the past was not worth dwelling over. Not when the present offered so much more.

The lust of his teenage self had been woefully unimaginative. The things the other boys talked about did not interest him, nor were they particularly helpful; he was left to use the results of his own fumbling explorations to imagine what Dimitri might do to him—when he allowed himself to think of such things at all. Too often he did not, fighting his mind to rid itself of images of Dimitri biting the end of his fountain pen in class or twirling his épée at practice; of course, it was impossible for Felix to restrain himself indefinitely; he always gave in at the end and would furiously pump himself to completion.

He did not have to do such things any longer. Or so he had thought, though it was no fault of his own nor even Dimitri’s, but Glenn's scheming that denied him the sweat release he craved.

Though Felix had explained to Glenn quite clearly what had happened and that he and Dimitri had made up, Glenn remained cross with Dimitri. Whenever Dimitri came calling Glenn followed him like a shadow from room to room. Felix assumed Glenn was still worried for his safety, which he found quite irritating, but Glenn would not budge no matter how much Felix assured him it was unnecessary, stating someone had to watch over them.

Felix found his insistence they could not be left alone together quite baffling until he realized, with a large amount of horror, that Glenn was behaving like a chaperone might.

A chaperone!

Felix was no maiden in need of a chaperone. Certainly, he wanted to do a great deal with Dimitri that would be considered inappropriate outside of a marriage bed, but what did it matter to _Glenn?_

Naturally, the realization made him blow up on Glenn.

“Dimitri and I are grown men!” Felix yelled. “We can do as we please!”

“Not in this house you can’t! I live in this house! As you know, the walls here are very thin!”

“Then go for a walk!”

Dimitri was holding his head in his hands, unable to look at either of them. “Felix, perhaps Glenn is right,” he said meekly.

“Go for a walk?” Glenn asked incredulously. ”Go for a walk? How can I go for a walk knowing what is happening in my home!”

“You are ridiculous! Fine, Dimitri and I will just go to the Blaiddyd residence.”

But Dimitri shot that down as well. “Stepmother and Father are home, as is El… and Dedue…”

Felix screamed in frustration.

In the end, he had given up and stormed out of the house with Dimitri in tow for a nice walk through Kyphon Hill, which was unfortunately full of promenading visitors on account of the beautiful weather as spring made its way to summer.

No matter, he did manage to steal a kiss from Dimitri in the shadow of a tree, so it was not an entirely wasted afternoon.

_____

To celebrate his twenty-sixth birthday, Sylvain hosted a small dinner party at the Gautier’s townhouse. It was the first time in years Sylvain had passed on holding a lavish affair at his family’s estate in Gautier, and coincidentally the first time in years Felix had been in Fhirdiad during his birthday. Felix was not so oblivious that he missed the connection. Sylvain had the frustrating habit of accommodating his friends without telling them what he was doing, which in turn led them into making fools of themselves. Every year Felix had complained about the excessive nature of Sylvain’s birthdays, ignorant of the fact that they were an excuse for Sylvain to hold them in Gautier, where Felix was willing to visit.

When the dinner party finished for the evening, Felix elected to remain at Sylvain’s, as it had been some time since they had talked privately other than an apology Felix had delivered for turning him away for a moon.

They made themselves comfortable in the Gautier’s drawing room, sitting in front of a grand window overlooking the city. Sylvain propped his feet up on a cushioned footstool and served them from a bottle of Sreng whisky he had purchased to annoy his father. Lord Gautier was the type of hawkish northerner that spoke as if the last war with Sreng had happened in the recent past and not centuries earlier.

“Glad to see you’ve made up with Dimitri,” Sylvain said as he handed Felix a glass of whisky. “Again.”

Felix stared at the waning moon. Since Dimitri’s reveal, he had begun tracking its cycle, wondering it had an effect on Dimitri’s mood. So far the results were inclusive.

“Yes, well. There was much to clear up.”

“Did you truly this time?” Sylvain asked. “Or am I going to watch you run to Fraldarius a moon from now, refusing to speak Dimitri’s name?”

Felix looked at Sylvain with narrowed eyes. The matter of Cornelia was not settled; it was something he thought about constantly, knowing he did not have a future with Dimitri unless she was neutralized.

Sylvain did not know that, however. “That’s not going to happen, but some things are… complicated.” Felix took a swig of whisky; it tasted horrid.

“Like what? That you’re in love with him and his family expects him to produce heirs?”

Felix choked; whisky shot up his nose. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Please spare me. I can see you’re still wearing that bracelet of his.” Felix pushed his sleeve down. “You two are not as subtle as you think you are.”

Felix bristled. He had always avoided discussing romance with Sylvain, sometimes because he could not bear thinking of his own feelings while at other times it was because he could not stand hearing about things that felt out of reach. This was likely why despite their closeness Sylvain had never spoken to him about his feelings for Ingrid.

“Fine, yes. That _is_ a complication.” He wanted to tell Sylvain the whole truth of it, but he had not yet asked Dimitri if he could.

“There, was that so hard to admit?” Sylvain asked smugly.

The whisky sharpened Felix’s tongue. “Don’t act as if you haven’t kept things from me as well.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sylvain’s friendly demeanor dropped.

“You know. You and Ingrid.” Felix gestured vaguely.

Sylvain’s cold expression suggested he did not know. “What about me and Ingrid.”

“Has she not spoken to you lately?”

“Other than today she’s been quite indisposed whenever I call upon her.”

“Oh.” Felix downed the rest of his whisky. “I should not be the one telling you this.”

“Out with it, Felix. What has she told you?”

Felix shook his head. “She came to speak with me the other day. Glenn was there, obviously. They spoke about what had happened. Glenn let her know he called off the wedding because of your feelings for her.”

Sylvain was not the type to anger easily. Nor was his anger, once provoked, one of passion; instead, he would project a cold, cruel indifference. Yet after Felix spoke of Glenn’s actions, Sylvain was uncharacteristically overcome with emotion; he threw the bottle of Sreng whisky against a wall, shattering it.

Sylvain sank into his armchair, despondent.

“Sylvain?”

“You were not there when Glenn and Ingrid got engaged,” he said abruptly.

Ingrid had made her debut at twenty. As Felix had been in Fraldarius during her inaugural social season, he had been among the last to learn of her resulting engagement to Glenn.

“And I take it neither of them ever told you how it happened either.”

“No, they never spoke of it.” He had never considered it odd as his brother was not the romantic type.

“The three of us were walking along the river. You know, at the paths near the old town where all the debutants promenade in the spring? Ingrid hated all of that, of course, but you know how her family is. A bunch of worthless social climbers. They were determined to dangle her in front of every bachelor in Fhirdiad.

“All their little plan succeeded in was catching the attention of unsavory types. Among the worst was Miklan. He thought a wife with a Crest might temper Father’s stodginess. He was probably right.

“I don’t know if Glenn knew about Miklan specifically, but he did see how miserable the whole ordeal was making Ingrid and asked if she would be interested in marrying him as a friend.” Sylvain laughed hollowly.

“As a friend?” Felix asked, incredulous.

“That’s right. He assured her he did not mind if she took any paramours while they were married. That upset her, of course, so I thought that was the end of it. I was wrong. Not a week later they were announcing their formal engagement. The wedding would have to wait until Glenn was done with his studies, but Lord Galatea’s annoyance was soothed by the money the Duke gave him.”

“Why didn’t you say something? If Ingrid preferred you over Glenn or Miklan, she would not have hesitated to make it known. But you can’t have expected her to read your mind.”

“It’s not that simple. You know how Ingrid is. She’s always criticizing me and complaining about this and that. At the time I saw her as a dear friend or a sister even, but not as a potential _wife_.”

“What changed?”

“Her engagement to Glenn. That’s what made me realize my true feelings. My timing is impeccable, I know.”

“Maybe in the past it was poor timing, but they’re not engaged anymore.”

Sylvain stood up and stared at the street below, his forehead leaning against the window. “I don’t know how Glenn figured out my feelings—probably that damned horse—but he confronted me about them the summer before the wedding. I tried to deny it, but you know that bastard. Once he sinks his claws in, he doesn’t let go. So I admitted it, and hoped that was the end of it. Now you’re telling me he broke off his engagement with Ingrid because of me.” He turned to look at Felix. “Do you think I wanted to be the reason why Ingrid’s happiness was ruined? She might not have been in love with Glenn but they had an arrangement, one that would have offered her a freedom she doesn’t have now.”

“If you married her she would still have that freedom.”

“No, she wouldn’t! My father is not like yours, Felix. Not to mention my mother. Both of them would want her to be things she’s not.”

“She wouldn’t be marrying them, she would be marrying _you_.”

“It’s the same damn thing! She would be miserable with me. I don’t want her to marry me because Glenn backed her into a corner. Or worse, out of pity.”

“Do you really think Ingrid would do such a thing? If she marries you, she’ll have done it because she wants to, not because she pities you, nor because she wants to escape her family. Like you said, your family is just as irritating. It’s not as if she doesn’t know that.”

“I was content with our friendship. I didn’t need her to marry me. Fucking Glenn meddling where he shouldn’t have.” He paced in front of Felix’s chair.

“You’re afraid,” Felix said with a sudden clarity. “You think now that she knows your feelings, she doesn’t want to speak to you anymore.”

Sylvain stopped pacing and stared at him in shock.

“You’re wrong. Not telling her was your mistake, nothing else. She’s been blindsided by you and Glenn, but that doesn’t mean keeping it secret until you died was the better thing to do. If she doesn’t want to speak to you again, it’s because of _that_.”

“What good does it do me either way? If she won’t speak to me, she won’t speak to me. It doesn’t matter why.”

“It matters a great deal. She’s upset and hurt. All she’s heard so far is Glenn’s side of the story. You owe her yours.”

“What if I don’t want to tell her.”

“ _Sylvain_.”

He took deep breath. “I can’t believe I’m being lectured on romance by a Fraldarius.”

“Oi.” Felix kicked him in the shin.

“What? It’s taken you a decade to get your act together regarding Dimitri.”

“It hasn’t been a decade,” Felix lied quickly.

“You think I don’t remember you mooning over him when you were thir—“

“Be quiet!”

_____

Felix could not stop thinking about telling Sylvain and Ingrid the truth. They deserved to know. More importantly, he was tired of keeping secrets. Being able to speak of his true feelings with Sylvain had been freeing and he did not want to start another round of hiding things from him.

Dimitri’s answer to his request was an immediate refusal. His secret involved Edelgard as well, and she likely would not want Sylvain and Ingrid to know. Felix took it upon himself to ask Edelgard for her opinion on the matter.

She was not against it. He asked Mr Molinaro next, as he knew Dimitri held his opinion in high regard.

Sylvain had apparently left quite an impression on Mr Molinaro. He thought Sylvain trustworthy and thought it fair to involve Ingrid.

Dimitri was outnumbered. Felix knew he was simply worried Sylvain and Ingrid would be disgusted by him, which was why he was digging in his heels. Felix assured him they would not be. He was not entirely convinced, but with Edelgard’s blessing and Mr Molinaro’s assurances, he agreed on adding Sylvain and Ingrid as confidants.

A dinner was arranged at the Fraldarius residence, where they could be free from interference. Lord Lambert and Lady Anselma knew nothing of Cornelia’s involvement. Dimitri was afraid if they would do something foolish if they did. Lord Lambert especially could not be trusted to keep his temper in check. Even in his newfound desire to be truthful, Felix agreed that the type of recklessness Lord Lambert engaged in was better off avoided.

Edelgard picked up Ingrid and pretended she was taking her to dinner at Lady Lysithea’s. There was an awkward air between Ingrid and Sylvain when she arrived, but it was not the time to deal with it. Felix, despite his reassurances to Dimitri, was nervous about how they would take things. He barely paid attention to his food.

After dinner, they gathered upstairs in the drawing room. There, Dimitri revealed the truth to Sylvain and Ingrid.

His claims were met with skepticism. Felix had not anticipated their reaction. Luckily, Edelgard put a stop to their doubts with a partial transformation. If was hard to deny the existence of werewolves after that.

“Personally, I would have pegged Cornelia as a vampire, not a werewolf,” Sylvain said once Dimitri finished explaining everything.

“Vampires aren’t real,” Felix hissed before turning to Dimitri and whispering, “Are they?”

Dimitri shrugged.

“Lady Constance is a bit weird about the sun. Maybe she’s a vampire.”

“Sylvain, be serious,” Ingrid complained.

“I _am_ being serious.”

Glenn snorted. Both Sylvain and Ingrid narrowed their eyes.

Felix let out an exasperated sigh. “Enough about vampires. We need to defeat Cornelia, who is a _werewolf_. We can’t attack her in Itha. Apparently, she’s set up traps there. As if it wasn’t enough that she’s a powerful werewolf, she had to be a talented mage as well.”

“If we can’t take the fight to her, then we just have to lure her out,” Sylvain said. “What would get her to leave Itha?”

“Not very many things,” Dimitri said. “She has more than us to worry about. The pack she left has no love for her either, though they’re mainly active in Adrestia and Leicester.”

“So, she’s safe to roam around Faerghus. I know I’ve seen her in Fhirdiad before. Do you know what brought her here?”

“She was here the first time Lord Lambert was elected,” Felix answered, remembering seeing her on his winter break when he was sixteen.

“Yes,” Dimitri confirmed. “She accompanied my uncle when he came to campaign for my father.”

“She came to Fraldarius once, when the Grand Duke had business with Father,” said Glenn.

“That’s not Fhirdiad,” Sylvain said peevishly.

Dimitri tilted his head. “My uncle…”

“What about your uncle?” Ingrid asked, refusing to look at Sylvain or Glenn.

“She always accompanies my uncle. If we could get him to come, she would as well.”

“I have an idea,” Sylvain said, “but you’re not going to like it. You need to tell your uncle and Cornelia what they want to hear. Tell them you and Lady Edelgard have decided to move forward with an engagement, and invite them to celebrate.”

“I’m telling anyone I’m marrying—“ Dimitri began.

“Absolutely not. Are you—“ Felix hissed.

“She would see through such an obvi—“ Edelgard jumped in.

Sylvain held up a hand. “Look, it’s a gamble but she went through all these lengths for a reason. This is what she wants, and that’s exactly why she’ll act foolishly about it. That’s what people are like.”

“Cornelia is not so easily fooled,” Edelgard said.

“You don’t have to fool her, you have to fool the Grand Duke.”

Felix wanted an easy solution, something guaranteed and not filled with uncertainty. But any confrontation with her was dangerous; the best they could do was take away her advantages.

“Sylvain is right,” Felix said. “We need to come up with a way to confront her where we control the environment. If she declines the invitation, there is always the wedding. Grand Duke Itha would not be able to avoid attending it.”

“There’s not going to be a wedding,” Edelgard said. “If this plan doesn’t work, I’m leaving.”

“You can’t,” Dimitri said, alarmed. “You saw what she did when we spoke to Lord Lonato. She went after Dedue! If we don’t get rid of her, do you think she will leave the people you love alone? Father, stepmother, your friends in Adrestia.”

“That is out of my hands.”

“You will let her destroy our family?”

“I’m sorry, Dimitri. Truly, I am. But it’s better than the alternative. I know you well enough to guess you’re planning to make a martyr out of yourself.”

Dimitri flinched. He could not argue because it was true. Felix placed a hand on his arm, needing to feel that he was alive.

“El…” Dimitri looked away from her. “So be it. We will stake everything on this one shot.”

“Cornelia will come,” Felix said, squeezing Dimitri’s arm. “I’m sure of it.”

“Let us hope.”

_____

At the south end of Kyphon Hill was a duck pond. It took nearly an hour to walk there from the northern end, but it had not stopped Felix from making the trip countless times during his childhood. Felix and Dimitri would throw oats stolen from the Blaiddyd’s kitchen into the pond and shriek in delight when the ducks would claim them. When they ran out, they would remain for a while longer and observe them. Dimitri was especially fascinated by the ducklings; he thought them adorable and had asked Lady Anselma if he could have one as a pet. He had sulked for a week when she said no. Felix was not quite as taken by the ducks as Dimitri; he lacked the patience to sit still and watch them for long, and would often divert his attention from the ducks to Dimitri instead. He had been a deeply clingy child, often quite literally, hanging off Dimitri’s arm like he saw the adults do as they walked in the park. It was a bit much to say Felix had been in love with him even then, but he had at least cherished Dimitri as he did no other.

The sun shined down on Felix as he aimlessly tossed oats into the duck pond. He had asked Dimitri to meet him at Kyphon Hill when he was done speaking to Lord Lambert and Lady Anselma, but he had not said where.

Somehow, Dimitri found him anyway.

Dimitri sat down on the grass next to him. Felix could not look at him. Since Lord Lambert and Lady Anselma were being kept in the dark, Dimitri and Edelgard were pretending they wanted to wed in earnest. Dimitri had just arrived from letting them know of his intentions. Lord Lambert had probably jumped with joy. At last, grandchildren!

Felix felt miserable, even though he knew the engagement was not real.

“Were you successful?” Felix asked when he could stand the silence no longer.

“Yes, they accepted the engagement. Now we must wait and see if my uncle and Cornelia will agree to attend El’s birthday for the announcement.” Edelgard celebrated her birthday with a ball every year. Inviting the Grand Duke and Cornelia to it was less suspicious than throwing a new event.

“I know this is the right course of action, but I still hate it.”

Dimitri placed a hand on Felix’s knee. If anyone saw it they would assume it was a friendly gesture. They would not know what the touch meant to Felix.

“Spare me a few oats?” Dimitri asked.

Felix huffed in amusement. “Still fond of the ducks, I take it.”

“Of course. I shall be one of those old men that visit the duck pond every day to read the paper.”

“That sounds dreadfully boring.”

“You’ll just have to make sure I don’t die of boredom then.”

“Are you suggesting I’m part of your imaginings of the future?”

“Of course. Where else would you be, but at my side?”

Felix flushed at the sight of Dimitri’s earnest expression. “Idiot. I can’t take this any longer. You must come tonight.”

Dimitri bit his lip in thought. “Glenn will be upset if he catches me.”

“Worry less about Glenn and more about _me_. If I’d known how hard it would be to get you alone—“

“Ah, but we’re alone now, are we not?”

In a manner of speaking, Dimitri was correct. There was no Glenn or any other family member or friend hovering over their shoulder. Alas, that was not good enough. Kyphon Hill was packed with visitors.

“You will take me in front of your precious ducks?”

“A fair point. The ducklings are too innocent to see such a sight.” Knowing Dimitri, he was entirely serious.

“ _Tonight_.” Felix allowed himself to briefly brush Dimitri’s hand. If anyone was looking, they would have thought it accidental. “I shall wait for you. Don’t disappoint me.”

Dimitri chuckled.

_____

Felix was becoming quite the master of stealth. He took advantage of the servant’s entrance once more to sneak Dimitri inside the townhouse. With great care, they quietly made their way upstairs. Felix had no idea if Glenn was awake, but considering his penchant for late night activities it was a safe bet to assume he might appear from his room at any given moment. Luckily, fate smiled upon them and they managed to find their way to Felix’s room undetected.

“I feel like a spy,” Dimitri said as Felix locked the door.

“With the way you lumber about you wouldn’t last very long as a spy.”

Dimitri caught him by the waist and pulled him close. “I do _not_ lumber about.”

“You sound as if you have bricks in your boots.”

“It’s always criticism with you, never any praise.” Dimitri leaned over him, their lips almost, but not quite, touching.

“If it’s praise you want, you’ll have to earn it,” Felix said.

“I can think of nothing I’d rather do more.”

Dimitri set about undressing him, peppering him with kisses as he went along and earning praise from Felix for his mouth. When all that was left on Felix was the sea glass bracelet, he lifted him in his arms and carried him to bed. There, he earned praise for his tongue, and his fingers as well.

Felix tasted his own seed in Dimitri’s mouth as he was stretched open. He wriggled around Dimitri’s fingers, begging mindlessly.

“Dimitri, _please_.”

Dimitri hushed him, his fingers cruel in their languid pace.

“You’re doing so well,” Dimitri said.

Felix whimpered and shook his head. He tried to thrust harder into Dimitri’s fingers, but Dimitri held him in place. He was at his mercy, his hole Dimitri’s to play with as he pleased.

Dimitri clicked his tongue. “None of that,” he said, his grip on Felix’s hips momentarily tightening.

After letting Felix come, he did not pause to let him rest. He breached him with his entire length in one quick motion, shocking him. Felix’s sensitivity made it almost painful, but he was finding he liked being at the edge of pain and pleasure.

Dimitri’s harsh thrusts and the feel of his cock reshaping Felix, using him, earned him even more praise. Felix had almost nothing left to spill when he came for the third time.

Later, when Dimitri was done taking him, Felix rolled onto his side to watch him. Even covered in sweat, his golden hair wild and the darkness of his missing eye exposed, Dimitri was the most beautiful man Felix had ever seen.

“What happens after we beat Cornelia?” Felix asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I’ve been wanting to spend some time in the country. I think one of the reasons I hate this curse so, is because I’ve had to spend most full moons confined, in one way or another. I wish I had the freedom to roam about somewhere larger than a back garden.”

Felix stroked Dimitri’s jaw with his thumb. “I’m quite tired of the city myself.”

“Is that so? We should go together then.”

“I would like that,” Felix said, not guarding his heart.

There was a long pause as Dimitri became lost in his thoughts. “There’s something you should know,” he finally said.

“More secrets?” Felix asked, trying not to sound annoyed.

“A family one, but I feel you should know it. El is not Stepmother’s niece. She’s her daughter.”

“What? But, Lord Arundel—are you saying—“

“No! No, Lord Arundel raised El as his own daughter to save his sister from ruin and allow his niece to claim legitimacy. El’s true father is an Adrestian nobleman. He was already married when he conducted an affair with Stepmother.”

“That means—El is your _sister_? Does Cornelia know this? Does your uncle?”

“They do. Though we’re not related by blood, if the truth was revealed it’s unlikely the Church would allow our marriage. However, it would ruin stepmother, destroy El’s future, and likely sink father’s political career. The truth of it is one of the secrets Cornelia uses to exert control over my family.”

“Lord Lambert could always pretend not to have known.”

“My father would never betray Stepmother that way. You may have your gripes with him, but his marriage to my mother was done out of duty and obligation. It was Stepmother he married for love. The reason I’m telling you all this is so you know my father is not the man you think he is. He’s only allowing my engagement to El because we said it was for love. He just wants to see me happy.”

“Whatever Edelgard may be to you, she’s still a woman. Your father would not bless our union.”

“You’re wrong. Certainly, he would be shocked and perhaps fumble with his response, but he would bless us if he knew much I love you.”

Love? Dimitri loved him? He should not have been surprised, yet he was.

“Felix?”

“You love me?”

“Yes? Have I not mentioned it before?”

“I think I would remember if you did,” Felix said somewhat hysterically.

“Oh. _Oh._ That is to say, it’s a thought I have so often I can’t believe I haven’t shared it. I will have to remedy that. I love you, Felix. I’m so thankful you didn’t give up on me after I pushed you away again. I can’t pretend I’m not afraid of what our future might hold, but if we beat Cornelia I would like to spend the rest of my life with you. If you’ll have me.”

“Are you—are you proposing?”

“Yes? I must admit I’m not sure why you’re surprised.”

Felix took deep breaths to calm himself. “I can’t help it. I thought I would have to convince you of it. Or worse, that you would still marry some woman to please your father.”

“No, never. I’m sorry I haven’t conveyed my intentions properly. I’ve hurt you so many times I should have realized you would feel that way.”

“Don’t. Don’t apologize. It doesn’t matter anymore. You’ve said it now, and I haven’t answered.”

“What is your answer? Will you marry me, Felix?”

“Yes, obviously. Consequences be damned.”

Dimitri’s smile made him even more beautiful to look at. “I love you, Felix.”

“You said that already.”

“Yes, I’m aware. But it’s important I keep saying it. I lo—“

Felix covered Dimitri’s mouth. “Enough, you’re embarrassing me.”

Dimitri, the villain, kissed Felix’s palm. “Stop that,” Felix complained. “Oi!” He pulled his hand away.

“Ah, but I love your hands, Felix. As I love all of you. I love even that harsh tongue of yours. I have a newfound appreciation for it actually. You are very skilled at—“

Felix shut him up with a kiss; it was much more successful than his hand.

_____

The Grand Duke’s letter was short and to the point.

_His Grace the Grand Duke of Itha and his companion Mrs Cornelia Arnim are delighted to hear of Mr Dimitri Blaiddyd’s engagement to the Lady Edelgard von Arundel and gladly accept the invitation for Lady Edelgard’s masquerade ball on the 22nd of the Garland Moon._

With its arrival, the plan to defeat Cornelia began in earnest.

Lady Edelgard summoned Lord Hubert from Enbarr. He devised a complicated warp array that would send Cornelia far beyond the usual limits using theoretical work done by an Adrestian scholar named Lord Linhardt. Lady Lysithea audited Lord Hubert’s spellwork, suggesting improvements to his formulas and helping him test their effectiveness. Together, they built a giant array on the Blaiddyd’s terrace that could be activated from a distance once the triggering conditions were met. Lord Hubert planned to activate it from Kyphon Hill as he was believed to be in Adrestia suffering from illness and did not want to arouse Cornelia’s suspicions.

Where he would send Cornelia was the question. With the help of Ashe, an alliance was formed with Lord Lonato to solve it. Lord Lonato had heard tale of a werewolf gathering power in the north but had not been able to locate them, never guessing they were hiding in plain sight. Learning that werewolf was Cornelia and she was the one who had ordered the attack on Ashe persuaded him to set aside his prejudice against Dimitri and Edelgard to assist in eradicating their common enemy. Thus it was decided Hubert’s array would transport Cornelia into a cell underneath Lord Lonato’s townhouse as he and his men were better equipped at dispatching werewolves. Given the distance Lord Hubert needed to warp Cornelia, activating the array would drain him to the point of collapse and leave him vulnerable to attack if things fell apart. Glenn and Ashe volunteered to accompany him and act as guards as neither of their absences would be notable.

The plan had been difficult to devise because of the array’s spellwork and the cooperation needed from Lord Lonato for the final step, but the execution of it was simple. Dimitri and Edelgard would ask to speak with Cornelia on the terrace. Once there, the magic of the array would alert Lord Hubert of her presence and he would send her to Lord Lonato. Weeks of planning and it would all be over in an instant. Corenlia’s pack would flounder without her. Lord Lonato happily volunteered to be rid of them in the coming days, leaving only the Grand Duke as a loose end. As the full extent of his involvement in Cornelia’s machinations was unknown, Dimitri refrained from making any hasty decisions regarding his fate.

The weeks leading up to Edelgard’s birthday passed by in a blur. Felix spent as much time in Dimitri’s company as he was allowed. A sense of dread crept upon him, growing stronger as Edelgard’s birthday neared. He refrained from speaking of it, not wanting to make Dimitri anxious, but his gut was convinced something was wrong. He was unable to place why he felt that way, but it was possible not having a part to play in the plan was the true culprit. He did not like asking Lord Lonato to kill Cornelia, no matter how adept at it he was. If she escaped it was over and she would relentlessly hunt Edelgard and Dimitri for the rest of their lives.

_____

The evening of the ball arrived uncaring of Felix’s desire to see the flow of time stopped.

The Grand Duke and Cornelia’s had arrived at the Blaiddyd residence the day prior. Felix had not spoken or heard from Dimitri since. He knew it was because Dimitri was busy putting on a show for Cornelia and being the good dutiful nephew to his uncle, yet he still felt uneasy at the lack of contact. What if something had happened? What if Cornelia had discovered the plan?

His stomach churned.

“Relax,” Glenn said, settling a hand on Felix’s shoulder. He was dressed to watch over Lord Hubert with their father’s silver dueling sword hanging off his hip and vials of crushed wolf’s bane and emergency concoctions placed in a bandolier.

“I _am_ relaxed,” Felix replied, shrugging him off.

“You’re the least relaxed I’ve ever seen you, and that’s saying something.”

“What if something goes wrong?” Felix asked quietly.

“Then we adapt.”

“I feel useless,” Felix admitted. “At least you have a task to do.”

“Standing around while Lord Hubert does everything is hardly impressive. Besides, have you considered the peace of mind you will bring Dimitri by remaining unharmed in his sight? He is likely as sick with worry as you are. He has been a fool about many things but I more than anyone understand why he did not want to involve you in this part of his life. He wanted you to be safe, even if it meant sacrificing his own happiness for it.”

“I didn’t ask him to do that,” Felix snapped.

“No, you didn’t. But knowing he did can help you understand what it means to him when you’re safe. You could guard Lord Hubert in my place, but what would be the point of that?”

Felix left the townhouse before Glenn. He took a carriage despite the short distance as walking in full formal dress and an animal mask would have made him look like a twat. Edelgard’s animal masquerade theme had been chosen much before she had any inklings of inviting Cornelia and he was not sure if it was a coincidence or if Edelgard had chosen the theme in jest of her own nature.

When his carriage arrived at the Blaiddyd residence he took a deep breath and put on his mask. He had foolishly allowed Sylvain to procure one for him as he considered shopping a waste of time, but it had backfired: Sylvain had saddled him with a mask of a black cat with golden accents that looked suspiciously like a character in a children’s story he had been overly fond of. Glenn’s teasing at the realization had been endless; he had followed Felix around the townhouse asking him to say the character’s signature phrase (“It’s meow or never!”).

Because Sylvain was cruel and unfair, he had chosen a perfectly reasonable Dagdan-style fox mask for himself. Felix spotted him in it when he entered the ballroom.

“Sylvain,” Felix called out as he approached.

“I’m not Sylvain, I’m a fox.”

“Don’t be daft, everyone can tell it’s you with that red hair of yours.”

A woman in a hideous horse mask laughed.

Felix stared at her. He had hoped considering the situation with Ingrid, Sylvain was done with entertaining pointless flirtations.

“Really, Felix? Didn’t you ask that we stop reminding you of _Sir Thomas’s Meowvelous Adventures_ after they killed off Pip?”

Felix could not believe his ears. “ _Ingrid?_ ”

“Yes? Who else would I be?”

“I don’t know, you’re wearing a mask.”

“I can’t believe this,” Ingrid said. “You really didn’t recognize me.”

_Who would have?_ Felix thought. The mask was beyond unflattering. He should have known from that alone: only Ingrid would dare to wear such a thing.

“It just means your mask is that good,” Sylvain said hastily.

“Yes, exactly,” Felix agreed. “The detailing is very… interesting. It _is_ a horse, right?”

“Of course it’s a horse. I couldn’t believe my luck when I found it.”

“Hmm.” Felix was saved from further conversation with the entrance of Edelgard and Dimitri.

Edelgard was wearing a horned ram mask while Dimitri, to Felix’s shock, had opted for a boar mask. There were few people in the world who would have known its significance; a ridiculous gesture, but one Felix appreciated immensely.

Beneath his cat mask, Felix smiled.

Dimitri and Edelgard strode out onto the ballroom floor to lead the first dance of the night. Felix’s smile waned at the sight of them: Edelgard in her beautiful red dress and Dimitri in his handsome blue jacket. Every eye in the room was upon them, whispering about what a fine match they made.

Felix averted his eyes from their dancing figures. As he did, he spotted Cornelia.

Like Sylvain, it was her hair that gave her away: she was the only woman in the room wearing it down. He would find her lack of care toward social convention admirable if he did not know the type of monster she was. As her shameless daring knew no bounds, she was wearing a golden wolf mask. Beside her was a man in a lion mask, presumably the Grand Duke. His body language spoke of boredom and his glass, Felix noticed, was nearly empty.

They did not notice Felix staring at them. The Grand Duke paid little attention to anyone and Cornelia was preoccupied with watching Dimitri and Edelgard dance. Her gaze on them felt possessive. Seeing her, Felix understood how vexed she must have felt when Dimitri refused to be her puppet. She had bitten him; he belonged to her pack as a result.

The music ended. Dimitri and Edelgard continued on to a second dance, then a third, igniting gossip. Felix bitterly ignored it.

Sylvain and Ingrid left for the fourth dance while Edelgard and Dimitri broke off to dance with new partners. For Edelgard, the obnoxious Lorenz in a bird mask (its beak was long enough that if he did not tower over her, he would have poked out her eye) and for Dimitri the excitable Annette in a rabbit mask. Felix, abandoned, stalked the perimeter of the ball until he found someone as alone and as tense as him: Mr Molinaro. His bear mask obscured his face well, but his unreasonable height ruined his anonymity.

“Lord Felix.”

“Mr Molinaro.”

“Perhaps it is presumptuous of me, but you need not be so formal. My first name suffices.”

Felix raised brow though Mr Molinaro— _Dedue_ —could not see it. “Fine then, Dedue. You can drop the ‘Lord’ in front of my name as well.”

“If you are certain it would not cause offense.”

“With that accent, you can get away with saying anything.”

“I confess I do not know what you mean. My ears are unaccustomed to Fódlan accents and cannot place them.”

“You sound like a right noble prat, like Dimitri.”

“Oh. I must admit I find Fódlan’s formality difficult to conceptualize. Duscur is not without its social classes, but it lacks nobility and the endless titles and ways to speak that comes with it.”

“I’m not a noble. Only my old man is and one day Glenn. Assuming our old man allows him to inherit his title.”

“The inheritance laws of Fódlan are strange to me as well. Where I am from, all children inherit an equal amount and you cannot prevent them from it.”

“They’re not the laws of Fódlan, but of Faerghus. It’s a leftover from when inheritance was based on Crests.”

“I see. I find that even stranger as Crests do not exist in Duscur.”

“I wouldn’t be so certain; we do share a border. It’s not as if you would know without testing for them. That’s how it was discovered Crests exist in Sreng.” In great irony, the most common Crest in Sreng was the Crest of Gautier.

“I suppose you’re right.”

The music changed. Sylvain rescued Edelgard, though how much of an improvement he was in her eyes over Lorenz was difficult to say, while Ingrid took Annette’s place in Dimitri’s arms.

Every ball was the same. His friends danced merrily while he was left alone to watch.

“I’m going to get some air,” he told Dedue, who likely did not care but graced Felix with a polite nod of acknowledgment nonetheless.

He exited the great mansion onto the terrace and walked briskly down its stairs before he could get in the way of the plan. He hid himself away at the side of the mansion, along the path he had used to come to the back garden during the Harpstring Moon. Leaning against a garden shed, he sighed.

Considering the circumstances, it seemed ridiculous to be upset Dimitri was dancing with other people. But it was not that he was jealous, he knew Dimitri loved him. He was sad. Cornelia was not the reason Dimitri could not dance with him. It was much more than that.

Dimitri was so certain his father would accept them, but Felix did not share in his optimism. Lord Lambert had spoken so fervently of children, which Felix could not give to his son no matter how hard he tried.

There was also Felix’s old man to consider. He already had Glenn’s peculiarities to contend with; Felix’s preferences were likely to set him off even more because of that. Not that Felix blamed his brother for his honesty. Their uncle was a clergyman, so perhaps the Duke would not be surprised by Felix’s interest in men; the difficulty was Felix had no intention of doing the acceptable thing of entering the church. He wanted to live a life with Dimitri.

Voices drifted to him from the terrace. He tensed and chided himself for wasting time worrying about things that had not yet come to pass.

“I’m ever so pleased," came a woman’s voice with a thick Adrestian accent, “that you’ve chosen not to defy me.”

_Cornelia._

Felix’s hand went for the hilt of a sword that was not there.

“You did not provide us with much of a choice,” Edelgard said airily.

Cornelia laughed; it made Felix’s hair stand on end.

“Certainly you had a choice. You could either join me willingly or not. I’m so glad you saw the wisdom of the former.”

Her voice grew louder as she drifted nearer to Felix’s side of the terrace. Alarmed, Felix let himself into the garden shed. It smelled greatly of dust and fertilizer which while repugnant, would hopefully hide his scent from Cornelia.

“You look as if you’re waiting for something,” Cornelia said, her words muffled through the shed’s walls.

“Not at all,” Dimitri said. “It’s simply my impatience to return to the party.”

“You’re a very bad liar.”

Felix’s heart leapt into his throat. Cornelia had seen through their act.

What was Hubert waiting for? Had his magic failed?

“I don’t know what you mean,” Dimitri said, his voice barely audible.

“You’re wondering why the array hasn’t activated yet,” Cornelia said, her voice sickly sweet. “Simple, I’m blocking it. But if you insist on me releasing it—“

There was a garbled scream from Edelgard.

“El! What have you done to her?”

Felix could not stand there and listen to Cornelia gloat. He raided the shed for anything he could use as a weapon. Even if Cornelia healed from it right away, it did not matter. He needed to distract her long enough for Dimitri to escape.

Cornelia laughed. “I simply redirected the array’s target. Edelgard is in Lonato’s little cage, but not to worry—I’ve sent my men to rescue her.”

“You won’t get away with this.”

“Go on then, call for help. No? That’s right if _you_ can’t even beat me, what weak, pathetic human could? I’ll give you a choice: come with me and I’ll forgive your transgressions.”

“I’ll never join you. I would rather die.”

“As you wish.”

There, in the bottom of a dusty drawer was a silver dueling sword. Protected and reinforced by magic, the blade had not dulled. Felix picked it up and stared, for if he did not know any better he would have assumed it was his father’s sword. Even the inscription was the same—some Old Fódlan phrase about chivalry.

Felix took the sword and crept out of the shed.

Cornelia was holding Dimitri in the air by his throat, her arm transformed into that of a werewolf’s.

“You believe you’re special, but you’re not,” Cornelia said cruelly. “Certainly, having a Crest makes you valuable but not valuable enough for me to keep you alive. It’s that silly girl I’ve been trying to capture ever since your fool of a father meddled in Volkhard’s affairs at the behest of that whore wife of his.”

Caught up in her monologuing, Cornelia did not notice Felix silently creep onto the terrace.

“What?” Dimitri choked out.

“Edelgard didn’t tell you? She has two Crests. Really, I must thank you for delivering her to me.”

Felix lifted the shiny, silver sword and thrust it into Cornelia’s back.

Except—the sword did not sink into her flesh. It cut a line across her human arm as she turned toward him and snarled.

“How dare you?” Blood dripped from her arm; the cut was shallow but Felix had barely grazed her. A normal sword would have done nothing at all. But a silver sword had a deadly sharpness: the lightest touch had torn through her gloves and skin. She narrowed her eyes, examining the wound in confusion when it did not heal.

Felix lunged for her again.

She threw Dimitri against the wall. It gave her enough time to jump away before Felix could run her through with his sword—all he managed was another shallow cut to her side.

“You little wretch!” she screamed as she began to transform.

Felix did not let it deter him. As her figure warped, her dress bursting into shreds, he searched for an opening and thrust his sword forward. He cut a deeper wound into her leg but it was all he managed before he found himself flying across the terrace. He had enough sense to let go of the sword before he impaled himself with it; a good thing too as he landed terribly, knocking the breath from him.

“Felix!”

His vision blurred and then doubled. There were two werewolves on the terrace. He squinted. They were not quite the same color.

The golden werewolf charged at the red one.

“Get away from him!”

“Felix was it?” Cornelia’s honeyed voice was monstrous in her wolf form. “Ah! The Fraldarius boy. How interesting!” She dodged Dimitri’s attacks with ease. The shallow cuts Felix had inflicted on her were only cosmetic. “Not to worry, I'll take care of both of you when I return!”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Dimitri growled.

“Oh dear, you forget I’m quite capable of using magic even in this form.”

A bright magenta light surrounded Cornelia; Dimitri lunged for her, but it was too late. She had warped away on her own.

Dimitri cursed and went to Felix’s side.

“Are you all right?”

Felix nodded. “Help me stand.”

A giant paw picked him up from the floor.

“I’d change back,” Dimitri said, “but I’m not sure I can. Also… I’ve ripped my clothes.”

The remains of Cornelia’s and Dimitri’s clothes were scattered about the terrace.

“At least now you can fight back.”

Felix’s pain was subsiding. Miraculously, it seemed he had not broken anything.

“Not if I don’t know where she is.”

A foreboding thought crossed Felix’s mind. “Glenn!” He picked up his fallen sword and ran.

“Glenn?” Dimitri asked, leaping after him.

“She _knew._ She knew about the array which means she likely knows who set it up. They’re not _safe_.”

“You think she’s gone after Glenn and the others?”

“It’s close enough to warp to on her own. I could feel she used her own magic, not the terrace’s array.”

Felix and Dimitri ran until they reached the front of the Blaiddyd mansion. Dimitri’s wolf form was deeply conspicuous; he would certainly cause a commotion if anyone saw him. Unfortunately, the front driveway was filled with footmen.

“Actually, are you certain you can’t change back?”

“I would still be naked, Felix.”

“Fine, you run across while I distract them.”

Felix stepped out from the shadows.

“I say, where is my coat?” He spoke in a mockery of Dimitri’s accent. “I have been searching everywhere for it. I handed it off to someone and now it is gone!”

“Sir—“

“I had a snuff box in my pocket. It better still be there or I will be speaking to Lord Lambert about this.”

With every eye on Felix, Dimitri was free to sprint across the yard and run to Kyphon Hill. Felix prayed no one was outside to see him cross the street—or if they were, that they would mistake him for a very large dog.

Dimitri disappeared into the trees.

“Never mind, it looks like my snuff box was in my pocket after all. Carry on.” Felix strode past the footmen as arrogantly as he dared, following after Dimitri. When he was satisfied he was out of sight, he took off in a sprint.

Thankfully, it was late enough that not a soul was in the park. Felix ran through trees and thicket, following the tracks Dimitri had left behind.

He heard yelling. Ashe’s voice judging by the high tone, then a growl that must have been Dimitri as it was over Cornelia’s unpleasant laughter.

Felix hid behind the trees, approaching the source of commotion cautiously. It was a good choice—he was not prepared for the scene before him.

Someone had betrayed them, for there were three dead men scattered about, all of them undressed. Silver arrows and the slash of a sword had mutilated their bodies. Members of Cornelia’s pack he guessed. A fourth man was not yet dead; he was still in his werewolf form, but he was bleeding profusely, Glenn’s sword sticking out of his chest and pinning him to a tree.

Glenn himself was crumpled on the floor unmoving. Ashe stood above him, his silver knife in hand. His quiver was discarded on the floor, empty.

Felix could not tell if his brother was alive. His grip tightened around the hilt of his sword.

Dimitri paced in front of Hubert’s still form. Like Glenn he was unconscious but he was laid out in such a way that it did not look as if anyone had harmed him. Not yet, at least.

“And where is your charming companion?” Cornelia asked.

Dimitri bared his teeth.

“No answer? Very well.” She ran at Dimitri; they crashed together in a horrifying crack.

Despite their enormous frames, they moved with a lethal speed. Cornelia especially; Felix acknowledged it with a deep dread. As a human, Dimitri was an excellent fighter but as a werewolf he did not have the practice. He was struggling to keep up with Cornelia’s blows. It was inevitable she would strike him.

Felix was considering intervening when Ashe beat him to it: he jumped at Cornelia with his knife in hand and sunk it in her eye socket with unnerving precision. She howled, the sound piercing, as he leaped away, leaving the knife in. Dimitri seized the chance to attack her but he did not do much before she blasted him off with dark magic.

The toying playfulness she had embraced earlier was replaced with a wild rage. If they did not kill her, she would destroy all of them for their actions.

“You’ll regret that.” She took off running.

Felix barely managed to avoid her path. When he was certain she was gone, he ran to the others.

“Glenn! Glenn—is he?” Felix could not bring himself to say the words.

“Felix?” Ashe looked at him in surprise. “Lord Glenn—he was knocked out, but he’s still alive.”

Felix fell to the floor next to his brother and let out a sob of relief. “Idiot.”

“Felix.” Dimitri stood up, groaning. “You’re all right.”

“Of course,” Felix said. “I should be asking you that.”

Felix stood and went to fetch Glenn’s sword. After pulling it out, he raised it to slit the werewolf’s throat, intending to end its suffering.

“Wait!” Dimitri grabbed his arm, stopping him. “He might know something.”

Felix nodded and stepped back.

“How did you know to come here?” Dimitri asked the werewolf. When he did not respond, Dimitri stepped on him; the werewolf coughed out blood. “Answer me.”

“Cornelia told us… where to go.” The werewolf could barely speak; his eyes could not focus.

“How did she know to come here?”

“The boy—Christophe. She promised Lord Lonato a cure for him.”

“Lord Lonato betrayed us?”

Ashe gasped.

The werewolf wheezed in laughter, spraying blood on his and Dimitri’s fur.

Dimitri was livid. “That bastard will pay for his treachery.”

Felix did not like the look in Dimitri’s eyes. He slashed the werewolf’s throat before Dimitri could do something foolish.

“Felix!”

“There was no point in keeping him alive anymore. He gave us everything we need. Someone has to go after Edelgard while you and I find Cornelia.”

“I will find Cornelia on my own. You will not accompany me.”

Felix lifted a sword to Dimitri’s throat. “You’re acting foolishly, boar. She can’t be dealt with alone.”

A groan resounded from behind them. Hubert stirred awake. “What—what is going on?”

“We were ambushed,” Ashe said. “Lord Lonato… he betrayed us. Cornelia manipulated the array and sent Lady Edelgard to him.”

Hubert paled. “That’s impossible.”

“We saw it with our own eyes,” Felix said. “Can you activate it again and send someone after her?”

“No, the distance is too great to repeat so quickly. But there is someone who can—Lady Lysithea.”

“Where is she?” Felix asked. “I didn’t see her at the party.”

“She would not want Cornelia to notice her, but she was there.”

“Fine. Warp us to the terrace.”

Hubert looked at him disdainfully. “How easy do you think it is to warp a person? The amount of magic it requires—why don’t _you_ try warping multiple people after sending someone across town?”

Felix considered running Hubert through with one of his swords. “How many people _can_ you take?”

“Right now? Myself and one other.”

“New plan then: you warp to the Blaiddyd’s with Glenn. The rest of us will meet you there.”

He handed Glenn’s sword to a skeptical Hubert.

“If anything happens Glenn, I’ll kill you.”

“If anything happens to Lady Edelgard because your unconscious brother delayed me, you will wish I had killed you.“

Felix rolled his eyes as Hubert and Glenn disappeared in a flash of magenta light.

“No more delaying,” Dimitri said. He led them through Kyphon Hill, following Cornelia’s scent. It was not a surprise when the trail took them back to the Blaiddyd residence; Felix had suspected she would return to the place.

“Ashe, go find Hubert,” Felix said.

Ashe nodded. “We’ll save Lady Edelgard. Lord Lonato—he’s not a bad man. He’s just desperate to save his son.”

“You’re his son as well,” Dimitri spat angrily.

Ashe flinched.

“Go,” Felix said before Dimitri could upset the poor boy further. Felix had no love for Lord Lonato either, but it was not _the time_. Besides, he knew for all of Ashe’s optimism, he was no soft-hearted fool. If Lord Lonato did not do the right thing and release Edelgard, Ashe would do what was needed.

Ashe left them, sprinting across the road.

“How did Cornelia get past everyone without anyone noticing?” Felix asked.

“She didn’t,” Dimitri said. “Her scent ends here—she warped again I believe.”

“Damn it. She could be anywhere then.”

“No—not with those wounds. She couldn’t have gone far. She won’t be able to warp again for some time either.”

“I could try to make a scene again,” Felix offered.

“We are wasting time, what does it matter if—“

Felix summoned up the small bit of magic he knew and shot a bolt of lightning near a carriage. A horse reared; the footmen ran towards it. Felix repeated the spell three more times, causing chaos in the Blaiddyd’s driveway.

Dimitri snorted. “Well then.” He took off running.

Felix followed after him; they ducked past the alarmed footman to the side of the mansion.

“She’s near,” Dimitri said. “Her wounds make it easy to smell her.”

“Inside or outside?”

“Outside, in the back garden.”

When they reached the back of the mansion, Felix did not need Dimitri’s nose to figure out where Cornelia had gone. There was a trail of blood leading into the hedges.

“You remember how I caught you?” Felix asked.

Dimitri cocked his head in puzzlement.

“The trees.”

“Ah.”

“You remember the place near the center—lead her there.”

“Is that wise?”

“No one ever looks up,” Felix said. “Unless you have a better plan.”

“Not really. Be careful, Felix."

“You too, you fool.” He stretched his hand above his head and placed his palm on Dimitri’s snout. “Now go.”

Dimitri ran into the hedges. Felix followed after him, but they were separated in moments. Cornelia’s blood left a clear trail. Felix ignored it and walked to the center of the garden. When he was near enough he climbed up a tree and surveyed his surroundings.

He spotted Dimitri’s huge form easily, but he did not find Cornelia. It made him uneasy; she was nearly Dimitri’s size. She should not be able to hide unless—

Unless she had switched forms.

Felix jumped from tree to tree until he reached the same one he had waited at before, nearly a moon ago. He wanted to warn Dimitri that Cornelia was hiding somewhere but he would ruin the plan. All he could do was watch as Dimitri fell into her trap. She did not need to be in werewolf form to harm him: she had Ashe’s silver knife in her possession. The metal was dangerous to her, but she was likely past the point of caring. A cornered animal would do anything.

Minutes ticked by. The temptation to call out grew stronger.

He had to believe in Dimitri.

Dimitri would find her and knife or not she was injured—except, it was not that simple. Dimitri was struggling to find her for a reason. Cornelia had left that blood trail _on purpose._ She had walked in circles until her blood and scent were everywhere, making it impossible for Dimitri to detect her. He would never see her coming.

Felix nearly cried out in a warning, but it was too late.

A howl raged from Dimitri: Cornelia had stabbed him with Ashe’s knife. As Felix suspected, she had transformed back into a human to hide. As Dimitri pulled out the dagger from his side, she changed back into a wolf.

He chased her; she tore through the hedges instead of going around them. Felix worried she would not pass beneath him.

But Dimitri was determined. Just as being wounded had made Cornelia more dangerous, the same could be said of Dimitri. He had not forgotten their plan. When he neared Felix’s tree he leaped upon Cornelia and pinned her down; she threw him off, but that was exactly what Felix was hoping for. He leapt from the tree and plunged the sword into her chest.

She howled in rage, the sound painful to Felix’s ears.

“You will not hurt Dimitri again,” Felix said, plunging the sword in deeper. Blood splashed on his face as Cornelia’s eyes bulged in anger.

But it was not the end. He should have known Cornelia would be spiteful even in death. She lifted herself off the dirt in a quick jerk, uncaring how the action further impaled her, and bit Felix’s shoulder.

Felix screamed.

He could not move, could not react. The shock of pain as her massive teeth crushed bone kept him immobilized.

“Felix!”

A blinding, searing agony spread from his shoulder. He could not withstand it. Cornelia transformed underneath him as she finally died but he felt no triumph in it. How could he?

Dimitri lifted him; Felix screamed again when his shoulder was jolted.

“Felix, I’ve got you, Felix—“ His voice was human.

“Dimitri, I—“ _I love you_ , he wanted to say. _I_ _love you._

The pain overtook him before he could form the words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 🐺


	6. garland moon (part ii)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did warn you it was FURRY P0RN!!!!!!!!!! I suppose if you're still shocked you can make up your own ending to this fic in your head lmao

When Felix woke, he knew not much time could have passed because Dedue was still dressed for Edelgard’s ball, having only removed his mask as he examined Felix’s shoulder.

Felix cried out in pain a something cold was placed on his burning skin.

“Felix!” Dimitri leaned over him. He was dressed in nothing but an overcoat; Felix could see down it from where he rested.

“You—put something proper on,” Felix rasped.

“Dedue, you work miracles. Felix is already strong enough to complain.”

“Shut up,” Felix said weakly.

Dedue shook his head. “I’ve done little but set the bone. It will take quite some time for his wounds to heal.”

“But they will heal?” Dimitri asked. His voice sounded far away.

Felix’s eyelids felt heavy. Opening them became impossible.

“If this was an ordinary wound—“

Felix drifted off.

____

He woke again. This time Dimitri was wearing clothes, though his shirt had not been properly buttoned. Dedue was standing next to him, saying something in a low voice Felix could barely follow.

“…dangerous. There are…”

“But if—“

“The risk…”

They were arguing. Felix tried to sit up but his limbs felt heavy; it was like trying to swim against a current.

“Dimitri.” Felix’s voice was little more than a whisper, but Dimitri heard it.

“Felix, Felix.” He crouched at Felix’s bedside.

“Ask him,” Dedue said.

“Cornelia’s bite… we have Lonato’s potion if…”

Felix could barely concentrate on his words, but he was of sound enough mind to know what Dimitri was asking: was Felix willing to risk his life to remain human?

The answer came easily to him.

“No. No potion.” He was nothing like Lord Lonato, to think so little of life that he was willing to gamble with it to remain human. As if such a thing mattered. He loved Dimitri in whatever form he took. Why Lonato could not love his sons in the same unconditional manner was beyond Felix’s understanding.

“As you wish,” he heard Dimitri say, before drifting off once more.

____

Felix drifted in and out several more times throughout the night and day. In the morning hours (at least he assumed it was morning from the sound of the birds chirping outside Dimitri’s window) he woke to see Glenn sitting in a chair at his bedside. He was decidedly alive—when he noticed Felix’s brief wakefulness he started up into a heated lecture. Felix mercifully fell asleep before he had to hear the whole thing.

Another time he woke to Sylvain and Ingrid, then Dimitri and Glenn, Sylvain and Glenn, Dedue and Ingrid—

It was dark once more when he woke up feeling clear-headed enough that he knew it would be some time before he fell asleep again.

Dimitri was sitting in the chair Glenn had used in the morning. His eyes were closed though he looked too tense to be asleep.

“Dimitri.” Felix’s voice felt brittle.

“Felix!” Dimitri sprung up at once.

His eyepatch was missing—that was why Felix had looked upon two closed eyelids.

“Are you—do you need anything?”

“Water,” Felix croaked.

Dimitri was handing him a glass in seconds.

“What happened?” Felix asked when his throat no longer felt like it was made of sand.

Dimitri laughed without humor. “Where to start?”

The werewolf that had attacked them at the Rhodos Coast had not come alone. The other had approached Lonato and had spun a tale about a cure for lycanthropy Cornelia was willing to provide him—for the right price. He just needed to help her capture Edelgard.

Lonato, according to Ashe, had been torn. He had no love for Cornelia as she was exactly the type of werewolf he hunted, yet the allure of a cure had been too much to resist. After they approached him for help in capturing Cornelia, he had informed her of their plans, betrayed them. With her talent for magic, it had been easy for her to circumvent Hubert’s array once she knew of its existence.

Of course, there was no cure and Cornelia had no plants to help Lonato in any capacity. She had sent her men to wait for her so they could capture Edelgard and kill Lonato. When Ashe, Dedue, and Hubert had shown up instead, a fight had broken out.

Lonato was killed in the skirmish after taking a hit meant for Ashe. Ashe saw it as an atonement for his mistakes but Felix was far more cynical: all Lonato had done was make Ashe an orphan yet again. And for what? To fix something about his son that did not need fixing? In all Felix had heard of Lonato’s obsession, not once had someone said Christophe wished to be human again. It was pathetic. A pointless death.

Though losing Lonato had been a blow in the end Cornelia’s pack had been subdued and Edelgard had been rescued.

When that was done, Hubert had gone back to Kyphon Hill and had disposed of all evidence of what had happened. He took care of Cornelia’s corpse as well.

“No one will ever know you killed her,” Dimitri dryly informed him.

Felix shuddered to think what manner of crimes Hubert could get away with, but he could hardly complain when he was directly benefiting from Hubert’s alarming talents. He _had_ killed Cornelia, and as evil as she might have been, it did feel somewhat strange to have ended another person’s life. All the fighting he had ever done before was pretend; he knew how to wield a sword but he was no soldier.

He did not regret his actions, however, as they had freed Dimitri. His uncle, as Dimitri had suspected, was somewhat aware of what was going on. He had gladly turned a blind eye to Cornelia’s actions in return for her support in his ambitions; Dimitri had confronted him with his father present and apparently Lord Lambert had punched his brother so hard he had broken his nose. The two brothers had reached an impasse, and it was unlikely the Grand Duke would be passing any of his titles or land to his brother or nephew.

“Are you disappointed?” Felix asked him.

“Only that my uncle chose himself over his family. But my father has managed to make something for himself without titles, so I don’t see why I can’t as well. The nobility grows less powerful every day because of his work.”

“Do you want to be a politician then?”

“Maybe. I haven’t decided. All I know is I would like you to be at my side.”

Felix scoffed. “Of course. Where else would I be?”

Dimitri smiled.

“Cornelia’s bite,” Felix asked, “what is to become of it? What is to become of me?”

Dimitri brushed away a strand of Felix’s hair from his face. “Your shoulder will take some time to heal, but Dedue is a skilled healer and quite practiced in treating werewolf wounds.”

Felix narrowed his eyes. “Why does he have so much practice?”

“No reason.”

“ _Dimitri._ How many times have you been injured?”

“Felix, please. It’s in the past. As for whether Cornelia turned you… we’ll find out soon enough but I suspect she has. Your scent has changed somewhat. I’m sorry, Felix. I never wanted this to happen to you.”

“If it meant saving you, I would do it again in a heartbeat.”

Dimitri leaned over and kissed him. “I hope not. I’ve had enough life or death situations.”

Felix chased his lips, drawing him closer until Dimitri had no choice but to crawl onto the bed and straddle him. He was careful of Felix’s shoulder, but nowhere else. He bit Felix’s bottom lip before delving his tongue into Felix’s surprised mouth. His weight was heavy on Felix, sinking him into the bed.

A cough resounded from the doorway.

Felix pushed Dimitri off in fear. This was not how he wanted Lord Lambert to discover he we courting his son.

It was only Glenn.

“Is this really the time?” Glenn said in disgust.

“What are you doing here?” Felix asked.

“What am _I_ doing visiting my injured brother? No one mentioned you hit your hit. Tragic.”

“Shut up.”

“I suppose I’ll leave,” Dimitri said, red-faced in Glenn’s presence.

“Don’t you dare,” Felix threatened.

“I’m not going to watch my younger brother be sullied,” Glenn said.

“I promise I don’t want that either,” Felix snapped. “But Dimitri isn’t going anywhere. It’s his bed. He can sleep here. I don’t care what you do.”

Glenn rolled his eyes but did not protest the arrangement. Thus, Dimitri was bullied into getting in bed with him as Glenn started up his lecture about Felix’s reckless behavior again.

Felix yawned and fell asleep once more, this time with his face pillowed against Dimitri’s chest.

____

It was decided Felix would stay at the Blaiddyd residence until the full moon had passed. Edelgard confirmed Dimitri’s suspicions: Felix’s scent had definitely changed. He did not yet smell fully like a werewolf, but this was typical until a werewolf’s first transformation.

Sylvain visited again, though this time Felix was coherent enough to appreciate it.

“What a ball, huh?” Sylvain said cheerfully. “Though you missed the fun part. Lord Lambert decked the Grand Duke in the face.”

“Dimitri mentioned it.”

“It was glorious. I’ve never liked that bastard.”

Though the guests had been oblivious to the fighting that had gone on outside, most of them had witnessed the moment Lord Lambert had broken his brother’s nose. It was all anyone was talking about, Sylvain informed him.

“Ingrid will be by later. She’s at some charity luncheon with her sister.”

“Have you talked to her yet?”

“No, I don’t talk to any of Ingrid’s sisters. They all hate me.”

“You know perfectly well I meant Ingrid herself.”

Sylvain sighed. “Fine, we did talk.”

“And?”

“I proposed, she rejected me.”

Felix sat up. “Oh, I didn’t—“

“I wasn’t finished. This was after my birthday. We talked again after we learned about Dimitri’s werewolf thing. She demanded I explain to her why I had only proposed now. What was I thinking? Was I fool?”

“So… she said yes?”

Sylvain’s face lit up with a genuine smile. “She did. She’s being very Ingrid about it, but she did. She wants to travel, I think to eat? And she mentioned she would like to open an equestrian school.”

“An equestrian school? Is she planning on teaching the horses or the riders?”

“I’ll… have to ask.”

“Congratulations to you both.”

“And when can I congratulate you?”

Felix feigned ignorance. “On what?”

“Don't give me that,” Sylvain said as if he had not done the same. “You and Dimitri have survived this whole ordeal. When is he going to make an honest man out of you?”

“Shut up.” Felix bristled.

“I better be your best man.”

“Glenn will be my best man.”

“You’re unbelievable. You chose Glenn over me? He doesn’t even care about these things.”

It was true. “Fine, you can be my best man I suppose.”

“Wonderful! Now, I was thinking for your stag—“

“Nevermind. You’re banned from my wedding actually.”

“Felix!”

____

“He told you all that?” Ingrid asked. “Well, it’s technically right. After finding out about Dimitri, I felt there was no point in obsessing over everything Sylvain has ever done wrong. I was hurting myself in the long run.”

“So, you really do plan on going on a food tour of the continent?”

“No! I mean, I’m not traveling to eat. There’s more to it than that. My world is so narrow; I want to see more of it.”

“You would have been miserable married to Glenn.”

Ingrid startled. “I—I don’t know about that. But I think I’m glad for how things have turned out. I hope Glenn finds happiness as well, even if it’s not with another person.”

“I think Glenn is happy as long as he can do whatever he wants.”

Ingrid smiled. “You’re probably right.”

Glenn appeared in the evening once more. He took Felix’s lucid state as a chance to continue his lecturing from the night before but he gave up when he realized Felix was remorseless.

“You know it’s ironic you’re a werewolf.”

“Why?”

“Because you have the sleeping habits of an old man. You can barely stay awake past eleven. You’re just going to sleep through the entire full moon. What a waste. If I was a werewolf, I would actually appreciate the entire night.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re not one because you’re loud enough as it is at night. If you started howling, I would’ve had to push you out a window.”

“You better not shed on the furniture. You know, I think I’m allergic to dogs. Lady Galatea’s Blaiddyd Rex used to make me sneeze all the time. Though perhaps it was her perfume—“

Glenn stayed the night. Dimitri joined Felix in bed again. Glenn did not say anything about it this time; he simply continued to babble nonsense from his chair. Felix could not help but think of when they were children. Dimitri sometimes shared a bed with him then too with Glenn hovering over them to read bedtime stories.

Felix fell asleep feeling terribly loved.

The next afternoon, the Blaiddyd residence emptied out.

The servants were excused until the morning. Lord Lambert and Lady Anselma left for a trip, while Lady Edelgard went somewhere with Lady Lysithea. None of that surprised him; what did was Dedue: he was spending the night with Ashe.

“Are they friends?” Felix asked.

Dimitri did not laugh—he _guffawed_.

“It was a genuine question!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” There were tears in Dimitri’s eyes. “It’s just—you haven’t noticed? Dedue has been courting him quite openly.”

“Courting him? Dedue? To Ashe? Courting?” Dimitri needed to get his eyes checked. Ashe was friendly with everyone. Dedue was not special.

“You really did not notice?”

“Who would notice such a thing! Ashe is so cheerful and Dedue—Dedue never smiles!”

“Dedue smiles all the time. You just don’t look at Dedue. Or at anyone really.”

“I look at you.” It did not work as rebuttal; both of them blushed furiously.

“Yes, well, aside from me. They grew quite fond of each other while Ashe was recovering. You at least must have noticed _that_.”

He had, but it was still too shocking. He had always pictured Ashe with a sweet girl like Annette. Not a dour man like Dedue. How was it possible for him to have misjudged Ashe so thoroughly?

Perhaps Ingrid had been right to call Felix narrow-minded. He was consistently taken aback by the feelings and actions of others when it came to matters of romance.

When the sun began to set, Dimitri and Felix strode out onto the terrace, each of them wearing nothing more than a cloak out of modesty. Felix felt like a fool, but the alternative was ruining his clothes if he did so happen to transform. He had even been forced to take off the sea glass bracelet as his wrist was likely to expand and break the cord. He felt more naked without the bracelet than the rest of his missing clothes.

As the last rays of the sun disappeared, a prickling feeling began to spread along his skin. It was not painful, but the sensation could hardly be called comfortable either—it was like the feeling of pins and needles but coming from everywhere and not just an errant limb. The prickling grew stronger until it took over all his senses and he felt his body reform itself: still not painful, but it was an alarming feeling nonetheless; if he did not know what was happening to him he could only imagine the terror of it.

He had closed his eyes at some point. Opening them again made him feel dizzy as his vision was altered: everything looked clearer and he felt as if he was on a ladder.

“Felix?” Dimitri’s voice was the strange, deep one; he had transformed as well.

“I think I’m finally taller than Glenn.” _Oh_ —his voice was even stranger: it had already been deep; now it was the voice of a monster.

Dimitri shuffled closer, standing as straight and tall as he could, which was difficult as their legs did not bend and straighten like a human’s did.

“Are you checking to see if you’re still taller?” Felix asked, outraged.

“No, no, not at all.”

“Liar.”

Dimitri hastily changed the subject. “How’s your shoulder?”

The bandages Dedue had fixed up that morning were still intact. He clearly had practice anticipating how a transformation would affect his work.

“Still hurts, but no more than before.”

“We can go inside and rest,” Dimitri offered.

“No.” He thought of how Dimitri hated being confined. “If I don’t put any weight on it, it’s fine.” This ruled out moving on all fours which meant Felix could not run, as it was surpassingly difficult to move on two legs. Staying in balance was a struggle. For once, Dimitri was the more graceful of them.

They must have made quite the sight because of Felix’s restrictions: two werewolves leisurely promenading through the Blaiddyd’s back garden. Felix wobbling as he got used to walking in his new form, and Dimitri catching him before he could fall.

Cornelia’s rampage had destroyed a number of hedges. Rather than letting them regrow, someone had cut through them further, making a simple path to the center. The garden was much nicer this way, less like something out of a horror novel and more like the garden of a fairy tale, though he supposed given his appearance he belonged in the former rather than the later. Unless, of course, he was playing the part of a beast terrorizing a village—then he was perfect for the role.

Dimitri led them to the true center of the garden, where a gazebo overlooked a flower garden. More of Dedue’s work, Felix guessed. This part of the garden had fallen into disarray after Dimitri’s mother had passed but it was beautiful now, the flowers blooming and their scents sweet and overflowing.

As the benches of the gazebo were not built with werewolves in mind, they were forced to sit on the floor like animals. Felix felt rather undignified but he could not complain when he was tired of hobbling around like a newborn fawn.

“You’re taking things rather well,” Dimitri said.

“Am I?” Felix stared at his hands. He flexed them; they moved. His mind saw the connection but struggled to comprehend its meaning. They were a beast’s hands, clawed and covered in fur. How could they be his?

“I suppose you’ve always been the no-nonsense sort.”

“I think if I had not seen you last moon I would be going out of my mind. Everything feels different. Even my senses.” The darkness did not dim his vision like it normally would, but the colors he saw were limited. His ears could detect the smallest of sounds, but it made the world noisy and difficult to make sense of. Was it the wind he heard rustling the leaves of a tree or was it the sound of an animal? His sense of smell was the worst; he had no idea how to focus on one scent and trace its origins. There was a cloying sweetness in the air he had assumed was from the flowers but the way the smell strengthened and waned did not feel like something flowers would do.

He sniffed the air, trying to find the source of the scent. Putting his focus into the endeavor he realized his initial assumption was false: the flowers were a sweet note underneath the scent, but not the source. The scent—it was coming from Dimitri. A hunger stirred in him as he took a deeper breath. Dimitri—he smelled _ripe_.

“Felix?”

“Why do you smell so…” He searched for the right word. “Appealing?”

Dimitri’s ears twitched. He tried, uselessly, to back away from Felix but the gazebo was only so large; his back hit a bench. “Ah, well. You see. Each person may smell differently to you. It’s perfectly natural.”

“What do I smell like to you?”

“Hmm. That’s an interesting question.”

Felix leaned into him and took a strong whiff of his tantalizing scent.

“You’re sitting quite close,” Dimitri whined.

“I think if I shan’t have you, I’ll die,” Felix said. He had never been so aroused in his life; he felt mad with it.

“You want to—like this?”

“Is that a problem?” Wanting Dimitri was one of the few things that had not changed with this form.

“You always surprise me. Sometimes I think I should have told you everything when we were still in school.”

“Perhaps, but there’s no point in wallowing in past regrets. All you can do is move forward and try to do better.”

“Felix…” Dimitri’s single eye shined with unshed tears.

“Fool, why are you crying?” Felix nipped at Dimitri’s neck.

“I can’t help it.” He guided Felix gently onto his back, careful of his shoulder.

Thanks to Felix’s experience with Dimitri’s arousal, he was prepared for the strangeness of his cock unsheathing itself; what he was not prepared for was the feel of Dimitri’s tongue upon it, licking it messily. Warm and long and inhuman, but perfect for him in that moment. Sharp teeth grazed Felix’s shaft; his hind legs jolted in shock. Dimitri could not suck him off without his teeth getting in the way. Felix hardly minded when his tongue moved like _that_.

“Felix… I can finally taste you.”

Felix whimpered as Dimitri moved further down, between his hind legs. First smelling him then licking him, his tongue pushing past his rim and delving into his hole.

Felix’s tail thumped against the ground. He willed it to stop but to his mortification, he had no control over it. His only consolation was Dimitri’s tail was wagging enthusiastically behind him as well—as if he really did enjoy tasting Felix that much.

“That’s enough,” Felix whined. He kicked Dimitri’s snout away from his hole and settled on his stomach, his back arched and head down. His tail moved out of the way of its own volition, baring his hole.

“Felix, your shoulder—“

“It’s fine, it’s fine. I’m not putting any weight on it.” Not exactly true, but he could barely feel it.

“If you’re certain.”

“I am, hurry up.”

Dimitri pressed down on Felix and mounted him. His slick cock pushed into Felix’s hole, stretching him as his tongue could not. Felix whimpered. He had been mistaken. Dimitri’s cock was not proportionate at all. It was much too large, surely this was a joke, there was no hole that could fit him—

The slap of heavy balls announced Dimitri had finished mounting him. Felix let out a sound that would have been a sob if werewolves were capable of such things.

“Felix?”

“Move, you idiot, or I shall—“ The rest of his sentence was lost when Dimitri fucked it out of him.

The force he used to thrust into Felix was only possible because they were both transformed. Felix was loath to admit it, but his human body could not withstand such treatment—not without magic at least, which was certainly an avenue to explore.

“Felix, you feel—ah, like nothing I could have ever imagined.”

The sound of their mating was felt as if it could be heard in all of Fhirdiad. Felix’s claws scraped the gazebo floor, leaving deep scratches on the wood.

“More,” Felix begged, submitting to him.

Dimitri did not hold back. He pounded into Felix with all his strength. It did not bring the same pleasure as when he was human, but he loved the feeling all the same.

Dimitri’s cock began to expand at the base, stretching Felix’s hole further.

Felix yelped. “What’s happening?”

“It’s a knot,” Dimitri said as if that was a sufficient explanation.

Felix had never heard of such a thing, but as Dimitri’s cock continued to expand he was able to guess its purpose.

“Please,” Felix said, wanting all Dimitri could give him.

Dimitri’s thrusts slowed as his knot made the slide more difficult until he finally could move no longer. Locked into place, he came inside Felix, his knot stopping his seed from dripping out. Felix had not known what it truly felt like to be _full_ until this moment. His instincts were satiated at last; he came in a wave of bliss.

Dimitri turned them on their sides, careful of Felix’s injured shoulder, and bit playfully at Felix’s neck.

“How long does it last?” Felix asked.

“I’m not sure.”

“Hmm.” Felix closed his eyes. He was simply resting them, that was all.

“You may sleep if you wish.”

“I’m not tired,” Felix lied.

Dimitri huffed and went back to biting him.

_Ah,_ Felix thought as he valiantly fought against his sleepiness, Dimitri’s bites were a kiss.


	7. horsebow moon

“My love, we’re going to be late.”

Despite Dimitri’s complaints, he did nothing to push Felix off his cock. He did, however, reach up and pinch Felix’s nipples, making him come on the spot.

“That’s cheating,” Felix said with a shudder.

Dimitri sat up and kissed him. “Is it my fault you’re so sensitive?”

Though Felix was currently human, he swiped at Dimitri as if he had the claws of his wolf form. Dimitri, the fiend, just laughed.

“You still haven’t come,” Felix complained.

“Felix, I love you, but if you make me late to Dedue and Ashe’s wedding I’ll be very cross.”

“Fine, suffer then.” Felix removed himself from Dimitri’s stiff cock, intending to clean up in the inn’s washroom.

“On second thought,” Dimitri said, catching his wrist.

They were not late, but it was a near thing.

_____

Mr and Mr Ubert-Molinaro’s wedding was a small affair held on the Rhodos Coast, the place they had first met and fallen in love. It was equally distant to Ashe’s siblings in Gaspard and Dedue’s family in Duscur, making it so neither family had more of a trip.

Dimitri’s present to the couple was the venue itself: a modest, yet spacious villa by the sea though the house itself was an afterthought. Dimitri had chosen the place for its land; it was perfect for a garden. Whether Ashe and Dedue chose to live there full time or treat it as a country home to return to, was for them to decide.

Naturally, it made Felix’s gifts of a bookshelf and greenhouse look quite paltry, but there was nothing to be done about it.

“Who’s that with Hubert?” Glenn asked, pointing rudely to a man with bright orange hair. Disturbingly, the man was hanging off Hubert’s arm and laughing at something he had said. Was he mocking him? It seemed impossible that Hubert could say something amusing on purpose.

“That’s Lord Hubert’s husband, Lord Ferdinand of House Aegir,” Dimitri said casually.

Felix and Glenn turned to him in shock.

“His _what?_ ” Felix screeched.

Dimitri looked at them in surprise. “Have neither of you noticed his wedding ring?”

“No,” said Felix.

“I assumed it was as fake as his accent,” said Glenn.

“It’s very real, I assure you.”

“But, him and Edelgard—“ Felix cut off when he saw Dimitri’s pitying expression.

“Felix, Felix. You are a marvel. I’m surprised you didn’t hear about it. Their marriage caused quite a scandal. Ferdinand was supposed to marry Count Varley’s daughter.”

“I don’t care for gossip,” Felix said.

Glenn shrugged. “If I heard it, I soon forgot it.”

“Well, try not to act shocked in their vicinity.”

Dedue wore traditional Duscur wedding clothes to the ceremony. Their bright, colorful patterns and loose fit were of great contrast to Ashe’s ensemble but somehow the differences were complementary.

Dedue’s father did not have his stoic manner. He cried as Ashe and his son said their vows despite the fact that they were not in a language he understood. His wife handed him a handkerchief, prepared for his tears.

Dimitri cried as well, but Felix was not similarly prepared. He had to watch as Dimitri cleaned his snot on his shirt; it was terrible and disgusting yet Felix found himself endeared. Love was clearly rotting his mind to have such a thought.

If Felix’s wedding could be half as joyous as Ashe and Dedue’s he would consider it a success. He doubted his father would shed as many tears as Dedue’s had, but that Felix did not doubt his attendance was a testament to his father’s actions since Felix had sprung his engagement upon him. He had been shocked as yet another son denied his assumptions, but he had managed to get over himself in part, Felix suspected, because he had always had a certain fondness for Dimitri. Dimitri was everything Felix and Glenn never were, which was to say he was polite and well-mannered and was happy to let the Duke yammer on.

Lord Lambert and Felix’s relationship was slightly more strained. It was not that Lord Lambert disliked Felix—he took Dimitri’s declaration of their engagement in stride—but that the two of them could not be more different. Lord Lambert was friendly and enthusiastic and always smiling; Felix was none of those things. Lord Lambert had taken him on a fishing trip as some sort of attempt to bond with him. Felix had thought he would die from the awkwardness of it (they had caught exactly two fish after an entire day of trying).

“What a beautiful wedding,” Ingrid said as they ate. Sylvain was sitting next to her; their own wedding was not far off. “And the food!”

“I can’t believe Dedue cooked for his own wedding,” said Glenn.

“I’m _glad_ Dedue cooked,” said Sylvain. “Everything in Faerghus is so bland in comparison.”

“His family helped,” Dimitri pointed out.

“I can’t believe they’re not professionals,” said Ingrid.

“I’m telling you, it’s the spices. No one uses any damn spices in Faerghus. The only thing worse is Sreng Cuisine. That pickled cod dish they eat—I still have nightmares about it.”

Felix frowned. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“You don’t get to have a say in this. You and Dimitri willingly eat Gautier cheese gratin every time you visit.”

Dimitri looked hurt. “I like the texture.”

“Don’t _werewolves_ ”—Sylvain whispered the word—“have a good sense of smell?”

“What’s wrong with the smell of Gautier cheese?” Felix asked.

“There’s something very wrong with both of you. Glenn, Ingrid—you agree with me right?”

“It does have a strong smell,” Ingrid said diplomatically.

“It’s pretty disgusting,” said Glenn not as diplomatically.

“None of you have any taste,” Felix scoffed.

“Dimitri _literally_ doesn’t have any taste.” Sylvain waved his hands in emphasis. “Who do you think is right here? Someone who can differentiate every unique flavor in a dish or a man who chooses food based on textures?”

Felix narrowed his eyes. “Don’t be mean to Dimitri.”

“This is hopeless. _You’re_ hopeless.”

After eating came the time for dancing. Dedue and Ashe had chosen not to hold a formal Fódlan wedding ball, but a country-style Duscur dance outdoors. The weather was perfect for it, not too hot like it would have been during the height of summer nor too cold as it would be in the coming moons.

Dedue spun Ashe around to a fast, lively tune. The music had a different beat than those of Faerghus but Ashe had no problem keeping up.

As the song changed, the rest of the wedding party joined in on the merriment. Ingrid’s dancing was terrible to watch; Felix winced each time she stepped on Sylvain’s feet. Glenn danced with Dedue’s younger sister but he was a poor dancer even of Fódlan music and she laughed at his clumsiness.

Dimitri danced with Edelgard for a time. The two of them were stiffer than the music necessitated but they managed to follow the beat, which was more than he could say for everyone else.

Again, Felix found himself watching and not dancing. He felt foolish. It was not as if Dimitri would not dance with him. He just had to ask.

He could not bring himself to. Years of denying any interest in dancing were hard to go against. Sylvain and Glenn would make fun of him for it. He was probably not any good at it anyway. He had not danced since his childhood lessons. Not that Fódlan style dancing would help him. That type of dancing had always been useless to him; it was aimed at pairs of men and women but he and Dimitri were both men. Which one of them was meant to lead when they danced? Were they supposed to take turns?

“Care to dance, Felix?” Dimitri held out his hand.

Felix did not hesitate to respond. “Yes.”

His limbs were light and loose. The rigid dancing rules he had learned as a child were irrelevant. No one was leading; it was a partnership. Dimitri anticipated his steps, and he anticipated Dimitri’s. When he jumped, Dimitri caught him. They spun around in circles until they made themselves dizzy and fell down in laughter. When the world stopped spinning, they helped each other up.

The music changed. A woman sang in an unfamiliar language, her voice bright and merry. Dedue’s family sang along with her. Dimitri, to Felix’s surprise, sang as well. He was no professional, but Felix did not mind one bit.

They spun and dipped and clapped and lept. Felix did not know if he was a good dancer or if he made a mockery of the music with two left feet; it did not matter. He was with Dimitri and they were happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU TO EVERYONE THAT STUCK AROUND!!!!!!!!! whether you followed along as I posted or read it all at once thank you so much for reading until the end!!!!!! this is the longest thing I've completed and was a huge learning experience, especially on the time management side of things. I've always been afraid to do a big bang type event but I feel a lot more ”I think I can do this” now.


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